


I Don't Know Where I'm Going (But I Know It's Gonna Be a Long Time)

by JackEPeace



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/F, High School AU, this is what happens when I read YA books
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-21 15:30:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 42,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1555292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackEPeace/pseuds/JackEPeace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Game was all anyone could ever talk about during this time of year. Even though Jemma thinks there are plenty of other things to talk about, she still she can't help but overhear some of what is being said. Rumors are spreading like wildfire. Talk of the challenges. Talk of the prize money. It makes Jemma's head spin to think about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Characters from the show aren't mine. Vague references to other Whedon characters also aren't mine. The title for this story comes from the song "Beating Heart" by Ellie Golding. And this story was very, very heavily influenced by the book "Panic" by Lauren Oliver so lots of credit to her too!

Everyone was talking about The Game. Jemma knew this shouldn’t surprise her. The Game was all anyone could ever talk about during this time of year. Even though Jemma thought there were plenty of other things to talk about: graduation, summer, college. Anything other than The Game. 

But maybe Jemma was a little bit biased. Jemma never cared about The Game. She never paid much attention to the talk. Never went down to watch the beginning of summer jump that kicked things off. Never went to watch any of the other events. Never cared to see who the winner was. The Game held ever less interest for her than usual thanks to her own graduation and other events that made her even more certain that she was too distant, too separate to join in with the rest of her classmates’ excitement. 

Even so, Jemma can’t help but overhear some of what is being said. Rumors are spreading through her classmates like wildfire. Talk of the challenges. Cliff-diving, alligator wrestling, rock climbing, duels. Talk of the prize money. Fifty thousand. Seventy. A hundred thousand. It makes Jemma’s head spin to think about. 

The talk stops when the principal walks into the room and tells them that soon they’re going to begin their walk to the gym and become high school graduates. But Jemma can still see the nervous energy in her classmates. The way that everyone seems to be thinking the same thing.

They might be graduating today but tomorrow it’s going to be all about The Game. 

\---------

Jemma can’t begin to imagine why Fitz has any interest in going to the opening jump. They never do anything relating to The Game, not even this traditional beginning of summer event. 

It takes Jemma a few hours of badgering before she gets it out of him. The cute girl from his physics class, Bennett Halverson, will be there. She’s going to be jumping and Fitz promised to cheer her own.

Jemma grimaces at the idea. Crowds make her uncomfortable and she hates most of her classmates. But she loves Fitz so she hears herself saying, “Don’t you dare leave me alone.” 

Fitz leaves her alone. She doesn’t blame him, not really. But she’s still pissed. He has about as much luck with ladies as she does (which is to say…none) so Jemma tries to be happy for him when Fitz gets dragged away by Bennett. But that understanding quickly disappears when she’s getting shoved and jostled by her classmates and her feet ache from being stepped on. Fitz better appreciate all the things she does for him. 

Until the jump, it’s all like one big, wild party. Jemma wonders if she can still count this as a high school party because, if so, then she can say she’s been to at least one. People are drinking and smoking and laughing and the music is loud and Jemma just wants to go home. She used to look at her classmates and count the days until she would be off to college and free. Now Jemma doesn’t know what to do when she looks at them.

Instead, Jemma finds herself looking up at the stony top of the quarry. Soon, anyone who wants to take part in The Game will gather up there and jump thirty feet into the water below. Jemma’s stomach turns as she thinks about it. It’s dangerous and reckless and just because no one has been hurt jumping doesn’t mean it can’t happen. 

Jemma just traces the jump with her eyes as her classmates talk around her. Miles Lydon is standing close enough to her as he talks to Raina that he might as well be on top of her. But he doesn’t seem to notice Jemma. 

“You’re full of shit.” Raina is saying with a laugh. She sounds drunk already or maybe just flirtatious. “You don’t know.” 

“Yes I do.” Miles says adamantly. “Seventy thousand dollars. Swear to God. That’s how big the pot is this year. That’s why I’m going to win.” 

Jemma freezes. Seventy thousand dollars. The idea makes her eyes well up with tears. She looks back at the top of the quarry and thinks-

But no. It’s completely ridiculous. What has gotten into her? She can’t. She wouldn’t make it through two rounds of The Game, let alone to the end. Jemma pushes the idea from her mind. The jump would be easy compared to what would follow. 

Jemma thinks it must be the heat and the sun getting to her because she can’t think straight. All she can think is seventy thousand dollars and it’s not such a long way to jump. 

Jemma searches the crowd desperately for Fitz. They need to leave. Now. Bennett Halverson be damned. 

But Jemma can’t find him. She’s completely on her own. And her eyes keep traveling to the top of the quarry. 

\------------

Seventy thousand dollars is the only thing Jemma is thinking as she moves with her classmates away from the party and toward the top of the quarry. There are almost thirty of them, if she had to guess. Everyone always talks a big game, everyone shows up to boast about their likelihood of winning The Game. They brag and make promises about what they’re going to do with the money when they win it. But, in the end, there are more cowards than competitors. Jemma keeps her eyes on the ground, unwilling to look at the people around her. She doesn’t want to see who else is going to be jumping; she doesn’t want to see who else is thinking seventy thousand dollars.

Maybe she should. Maybe seeing the other people who are going to play The Game would snap her out of this foolishness and make her turn around so she can find Fitz. Jemma tries not to think about what Fitz is going to do when he sees her up here. She’ll probably give him a heart attack. Poor Fitz. He’ll get over it. 

Jemma keeps walking even though she’s shaking and her hands are trembling. Sweat trickles down the back of her neck and winds its way between her shoulder blades. She should not be doing this. She shouldn’t. Jemma wonders if anyone else is looking at her and thinking the same thing or if everyone is so focused on their own nerves and excitement that they don’t bother to notice her. Jemma doesn’t want to know what they’re thinking. 

And suddenly, the walk is over and they’re gathering at the quarry. It looks like a much longer jump from up here. Jemma’s heart threatens to jump out of her throat and take the plunge for her. Seventy thousand dollars she thinks as she digs half-moon craters into her palms with her nails. 

She could still turn back. She could turn back and find Fitz and no one would think any less of her. Jemma has already seen one of her classmates do exactly that. Once you jump, once you hit the water, you are officially a contestant in The Game and the only way out is to lose. Or to win. Seventy thousand dollars.

Jemma doesn’t turn around. She just gathers with her other classmates at the edge of the quarry. The water is bright, a perfect shade of blue below them. Jemma quickly lifts her head because she thinks if she keeps looking down then she’ll never jump. Or maybe she’d just fall. 

Once the signal is given, they have to jump. There’s no rush, no prize for being the first to jump, no penalty for being the last. It takes a few people diving into the water before most of the participants will do it anyway. Jemma glances over her shoulder. It’s still not too late to turn back. 

Instead, Jemma swallows and finally lets herself look around the rest of her classmates. Some she recognizes, some she doesn’t know. She might have gone to school with most of these people since she was young but she doesn’t know them all. They travel in very different circles. She recognizes Grant Ward, quarterback of the football team. Maria Hill, editor of the school newspaper. Melinda May, who always seemed happier just being by herself. Others that Jemma doesn’t know. People who could easily beat her in a track meet, let alone in The Game. 

Jemma’s eyes settle on one girl she doesn’t know by sight and she feels a stab of regret that high school is over and she never got to know her. Jemma knows it’s the heat and the fear that is making her think that way. Well, that and the fact that this girl is gorgeous. Her eyes are dark, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail that drops down her shoulder. She’s wearing a tank top and cut-off shorts and her skin is tan, the muscles in her legs coiled like springs even though she doesn’t look like she’s ready to jump. But she’s embraced the imminence of the jump and the fall and has accepted it with an easy confidence that Jemma immediately envies. 

Finally, Jemma can hear the sound of the announcer; he’s a member of the junior class, selected by some mysterious council. By the same people who run The Game each year. Only seniors can compete so the idea is that the junior announcer will be unbiased, as though his commentating can somehow influence the game. She can’t make out his words, just the drone of his voice and most of what he says is swallowed up anyway by the cheering and screaming from the crowd below. Jemma wonders if Fitz is watching, if he can pick her out among the crowd up here on the quarry. I’m sorry Fitz she thinks. Seventy thousand dollars. 

The signal splits through the fuzzy sounds of summer, momentarily silencing the drone of cicadas and the lazy calls of the birds in the trees around the quarry. Jemma knows it’s not possible but she thinks that her heart is going to push right out from her chest. Stranger things have happened, she’s sure. She can still turn around. She can still go back and watch with the others. 

Grant Ward is the first to jump. He gets a running start and lets out a whoop when he flies off the edge, crashing into the water seconds later. His head surfaces and he cheers the people cheering for him on the bank. Two others jump after him and then May and Jemma still thinks about turning around. 

Jemma watches as Ward and the others reach the bank and pull themselves out onto the dock where the announcer is waiting. Their names are written down and the commitment is made. Jemma stares at Ward with his easy smile and his casual confidence. She could never beat someone like him. What is she thinking. 

Jemma glances back at the other girl, the one with the dark eyes and the whip sharp smile on her face. She meets Jemma’s gaze again and smiles and winks and then she’s gone, jumping off the edge and toward the water. She disappears beneath the water and surfaces moments later with a smile on her face, kicking toward the dock.

Jemma stops thinking. She just jumps. 

\--------------

Jemma’s teeth are chattering as she tells Antoine Triplet her name and she tries not to take it personally as he looks at her suspiciously before writing her name down. They had chemistry together, so she has the feeling that his assessment of her is pretty accurate. 

Thankfully, the day is hot and Jemma hopes that she’ll dry off and warm up soon. Her clothes are soaked and stuck to her body, her shoes heavy on her feet as she walks off the deck and toward the crowd. A few people congratulate her or slap her on the back simply because she’s one of the contestants and Jemma has no idea when she became this person. The type of person who competes in The Game. The type of person who does stupid things without thinking. 

Maybe if she begged to have her name removed they might make an exception. But Jemma doesn’t actually turn back to talk to Tripp. She just thinks about it. But her feet don’t move. 

Suddenly someone is grabbing her roughly by the shoulders and shaking her hard and Jemma blinks, her head bobbing back and forth. “Fitz!” She twists away from him. “What are you doing?” 

“What am I doing?!” Fitz practically shouts at her. “What are you doing?! Jemma! What the hell!” He points toward the quarry. “What the hell was that?!” 

Jemma opens her mouth but she doesn’t know how to explain herself to Fitz. She wonders how she looks to him right now: waterlogged and shivering in the summer sun. Does she look like the type of person who would compete in The Game? Does she look like she might win? Or does she look as scared to him as she feels? 

“Seventy thousand dollars, Fitz.” Jemma says softly. “That’s what you get if you win.” 

But Fitz just glares at her, throwing his hands up in the air. “I cannot believe you. You’re a bloody idiot.” He stalks off through the crowd and Jemma follows after him because she doesn’t really know what else to do. He’s her best friend. And her ride. 

Jemma glances over her shoulder as she works her way through the crowd. The jump might be over but the party will probably continue on into the night. Jemma wants to leave before she does anything else stupid. It’s not until Jemma doesn’t see the other girl that she realizes that she was even looking for her. 

\--------------

“Are you out of your mind?” 

It’s the first thing Fitz has said to her since they left the quarry. The ride back to her house was full of awkward silences and the beginnings of mumbled apologizes that never really amounted to actual sentences. They’re sitting in Jemma’s driveway with the windows open even though it’s hot and muggy outside because the air conditioning made Jemma’s teeth chatter.

“Fitz-” Jemma starts softly but Fitz just shakes his head so Jemma falls silent. 

Fitz sighs and looks over at her. “I don’t understand. You could get hurt. You could be killed. Like Mike Peterson. You didn’t remember that when you were jumping off that cliff?” 

Jemma purses her lips. No, she hadn’t really thought about that. Mike Peterson had died when they were sophomores in high school; he’d been the first causality of The Game in twelve years. The police had spent a few weeks trying to get people to confess, to rat out who was pulling the strings of The Game so they could shut down the whole operation and hold someone responsible but there hadn’t been a single lead, not even a false one. Jemma had been impressed with her classmates, seeing as it normally took five seconds for some sort of gossip or story to spread around. But the were some rules that no one broke, no matter what. And no one talked about The Game. 

“I’m not going to die, Fitz.” Jemma says with a scoff, rolling her eyes. 

Fitz arches an eyebrow. “I bet that’s exactly what Mike Peterson told his friends.” 

Jemma just rolls her eyes again. Even though she thinks he’s probably right. 

“And what about Chan Ho Yin? I’m sure he has plenty of regrets about taking part in The Game.” Fitz continues. “And Akela Amador. I’m sure she’d rather not be blind-” 

“I get it, Fitz.” Jemma snaps. “Okay. I was stupid.” She unbuckles her seatbelt and gets out of the car, slamming the door shut behind her. 

Jemma stalks across the yard to her front door, ignoring the for sale sign in the yard like if she stops looking at it, it’ll go away. It hasn’t worked yet. She kicks off her wet shoes and is in the process of peeling off her wet socks when Fitz comes up to stand behind her. She doesn’t turn around. 

“So I’m not allowed to be worried about you, is that it?” Fitz questions. Jemma doesn’t say anything. “Look, this is all my fault. I shouldn’t have even drug you to the quarry and I shouldn’t have just left so I could talk to-” 

“Oh, Fitz.” Jemma says sadly, shaking her head as she turns around to look at him. “It’s not your fault.” She holds open her arms and he hugs her even though her clothes are still damp. “It’s seventy thousand dollars, Fitz.” She whispers. “If I win.” 

Fitz just shakes his head. “I told you, Jemma. I told you. We could figure it out. We would think of something. It doesn’t have to be this.” 

Jemma just shrugs and steps out of his embrace. “But it might be worth a shot.” 

She knows Fitz would have done everything he could. They would have spent all summer thinking and planning and hoping. It wouldn’t have worked out, not in the end. This is what Jemma can do to try and save herself. And anyway, it’s too late to back out now. 

\------------

The thing about The Game is that it involves a lot of waiting. It stretches across the whole summer, so the tasks pop up every few weeks and always without warning. There’s no time to prepare, no hint of what’s to come. Only a signal, some sign that shows up around town and the news spreads like a brush fire so that everyone knows when and where to show up. Jemma is always impressed that everyone under the age of eighteen seems to know about The Game but manages to keep the word from reaching the ears of anyone else. 

Almost two weeks pass by before Jemma gets word of the first challenge. She’s at the store with her mother, staring blankly at the back of a cereal box while her mother calculates the cost of the things in their cart and looks at coupons and, out of the corner of her eye, Jemma sees Bennett Halverson of all people. Bennett glances around and then mouths the words, “Tonight. Nine. Water towers.” 

Jemma just nods and Bennett walks away without another word. She feels a thrill of excitement rush through her body; she’s a competitor, she’s part of something. It’s weird to be included, to be the person that gets whispered messages in the grocery store. 

As she’s leaving the store, Jemma passes Grant Ward and some of his buddies and they meet eyes and nod to each other. Jemma feels that excitement again and tries to temper it by remembering Mike Peterson and the others. She’s still an idiot but at least she’s not alone. 

Even though Fitz doesn’t agree with her decision to play, he still shows up right on time to drive her to the water towers. “You’re completely insane if you think I’m not going to be there every step of the way.” He remarks, shaking his head as they get into his car. “I’m going to see my best friend win this thing.” 

Jemma thinks it’s sweet that Fitz has so much confidence in her. It’s good that one of them does. She thinks about the sign in the yard and her mother checking the coupons and the three months until the end of summer and thinks seventy thousand dollars and Jemma clinches her hands into fists and decides that, whatever tonight’s task is, she’s going to do it. And she’s going to do it well. She’s not going to be knocked off in the first round. 

Everyone else in town seems to have gotten the message about tonight’s challenge. Jemma is pretty sure that everyone she went to high school with and even a few younger kids are gathered around the expanse of field around the water towers. They’re far enough away from the houses and businesses that no one is going to care about the noise level so there are a few dozen car radios blaring a few dozen different stations and people are yelling and laughing and cheering and Jemma still can’t figure out how she came to belong to this group of people. She and Fitz never came to watch even a single challenge; they preferred to hang around together and make fun of their idiot classmates. Now she is one of them. Great. Well, if there’s one thing Jemma has learned over the past year, it’s that you never know where you’re going to end up. 

Jemma shakes her head when someone tries to shove a beer into her hands and steps closer to Fitz as they stand on the fringes of the group. She glances around, trying to figure out what the challenge might be and then when she realizes it, she wishes that she hadn’t. 

There are two water towers in town, though they’re old and rusted now from disuse and kept around mostly for show or because no one cares enough to take them down. A single wooden board stretches from one catwalk to the next, spanning at least twenty feet and high enough off the ground that if you slipped and fell you’d be joining Mike Peterson on the list of causalities. At least the jump from the quarry ended in a swim. Jemma can only imagine what a fall from the water towers would end in. 

Fitz follows her gaze and tenses up. “Jemma. No.” 

Jemma forces a smile. “It’ll be fine.” She mutters. “Over before you know it.” 

Desperate to take her mind off the view and the lie that just passed her lips, Jemma looks at the crowd around her instead. She’s almost surprised when she immediately spots the dark-haired girl from before. She’s standing off by herself, watching the revelry take place around her. She glances over at Jemma and smiles like she’s got some kind of secret and Jemma feels her heart catch and it’s a little like she’s standing on the edge of the quarry all over again, waiting to jump. 

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Fitz says, ignoring Jemma’s previous comment. “You don’t compete and they egg your house and call you a liar. You do compete and you fall to your death and die.” 

Jemma glares at him. “Well, thank you for the vote of confidence Fitz.” She snaps. “The trick is to crawl across, not walk across.” She tells him. “It’ll be slower but I’ll even out my center of balance more easily and it’ll be more stable.” 

Fitz just nods, but he’s still looking up at the plank, fretting. “Right. Excellent. And if you feel yourself start to fall, just hold on and I’ll…” 

“Catch me?” Jemma questions, arching an eyebrow. “It’ll be fine Fitz.” 

When Jemma looks back at the girl, she’s surprised to find her still watching her. Jemma isn’t used to people watching her so closely. It’s an odd sensation. 

\--------------

One by one, Tripp calls the names of the competitors and they go up to walk the plank. No one has fallen (not yet, anyway) but Jemma feels her heart catch in her throat when Miles loses his footing and pinwheels his arms, desperately trying to right himself. He doesn’t fall and there’s a collective breath of relief among all the people watching. 

Jemma starts shaking the second Tripp says her name and she holds her head high as she walks through the crowd toward the ladder on the side of the water tower. Her palms are slick with sweat but she manages to keep from slipping as she climbs. She doesn’t look down; she tries to block out the sounds of the cheering and the whistling and Fitz shouting her name and encouraging her. She just tries to focus on her task at hand. 

It takes Jemma a few seconds to convince herself that she can do this, that she can actually step out on that piece of wood. It looks so thin from this angle, impossibly so. It looks even higher now that she’s actually up on the water tower and Jemma feels an aching certainty in her chest that she’s going to fall.

But she doesn’t turn around. Instead she kneels down and reaches for the plank with shaking hands, crawling out on her hands and knees. The crowd below starts shouting and laughing, catcalling her as she inches across the plank. But Jemma ignores them. She doesn’t care about style or grace; maybe she looks like an idiot but she’s not going to be a dead idiot. Jemma scoots herself along, heart pounding, focused only on the other side of the water tower. 

And suddenly she’s there, pulling herself back to her feet and grabbing onto the side of the tower like it’s a long lost friend. Jemma can hear Fitz’s voice louder than everyone else, cheering on her success. 

Jemma doesn’t even remember climbing back down the water tower. All of the sudden, she’s just back on the ground again and people are praising her and patting her on the back and they’re people she’s gone to school with for years but never even spoken to and her head is spinning and she suddenly feels light-headed and a little bit like she might fall over or just throw up all over her feet. Jemma looks up at the wooden plank stretched between the two water towers and that nauseous feeling comes roaring back and she can’t believe that she did it. She walked across that thing. She made it. 

Yeah, Jemma really thinks she’s going to throw up.

But then Fitz is there beside her, pulling her into his arms and lifting her off her feet, spinning her around. “You did it Jem!” He yells, squeezing her tightly. “You were bloody amazing! That was…oh my god that was brilliant!” 

Jemma musters a weak smile when he sets her back on her feet. “Oh, please never do that again.” She mumbles. “Thank you Fitz.” 

Fitz is grinning at her and Jemma starts to feel a little better, warmed and centered by the smile on his face. “You were fearless.” He tells her, shaking his head. “That was amazing. You made it in forty seconds.” 

Jemma gapes at him. Forty seconds. It felt like she was on that stupid plank for forty years. She’d completely forgotten about the fact that she was going to be timed, which was probably a good thing; if she’d remembered that she needed a good time to stay in The Game might never have moved across the plank at all. 

“That’s…that’s pretty good, right?” Jemma questions, looking around uncertainly. Of course, there’s no one around to tell her how she stands amongst the other competitors. If the judges are hanging around, they aren’t making themselves known. Another part of The Game. So many secrets. There’s no telling when the next challenge is or what it will be. All that Jemma can do now is wait. 

Wait. For the next challenge. Because she just completed the first. She made it. She finished. One down, only five more to go. The possibility that she could actually do this, really do this, makes Jemma’s knees go weak all over again. 

For some reason, Jemma is reluctant to leave even though she’s already completed the challenge. There’s no rule that says that the competitors have to stick around once they’ve performed the task but Jemma still finds herself dragging her feet, hesitating every time Fitz tries to walk her back to the car. Instead she keeps her eyes trained upward, watching as the others walk the plank. Or, fail to do exactly that. The same people who seemed to have no trouble jumping off the top of a quarry balk at the idea of crossing the plank and can’t even take a single step. Jemma understands exactly how they feel. Once you’re up there, it seems impossible.  
If they don’t cross, they’re disqualified and just like that, Jemma sees the number of people that she has to beat shrink by five. One of the girls doesn’t even stop crying after she’s back on solid ground with her friends crowded around her, petting her head and trying to soothe her. 

It doesn’t take Jemma long to realize the real reason that she’s been reluctant to follow Fitz to his car. Tripp consults his list and then lifts the megaphone to his lips and the name “Skye” echoes off the sides of the water towers. The crowd seems to part as the girl moves past them on her way to the ladder. Skye. Jemma watches as she moves, confident and self-assured and she knows that the reason she stayed was to see her compete. To ascertain that she would still be in The Game, so that Jemma could still have an excuse to see her. To get her name. Skye. Again, Jemma has the sensation of jumping, the feeling of her heart leaping into her throat as she starts to fall. 

Jemma can’t take her eyes off Skye as she climbs the ladder and steps toward the plank. She tells herself it’s just to make sure that she’s okay, that she doesn’t fall, that she actually goes through with it. But she knows it’s more than that. 

The crowd starts jeering and tittering when Skye kneels down and starts crawling across the plank the same way that Jemma did half an hour before. Jemma feels herself start to smile as she watches Skye move across the beam. She wonders if she looked that silly, or if she moved that fast. It might not be a super-impressive way to cross, but it cuts out the teetering and danger of falling. 

Skye makes it to the other side of the water tower and stands up, bowing and waving to the crowd below. The teasing comments and jeers quickly turn into applause and she even blows them a few kisses before starting her descent down the ladder. Jemma is grinning so wide that the smile seems strange and foreign on her face and she wonders how long it’s been since she’s smiled, really smiled just like this and if it’s just a side effect of the adrenaline coursing through her body or something more. 

Tripp announces Skye’s time as forty seconds and while there are others who moved a little bit faster, there are plenty who made it across the plank slower than that. Jemma feels a thrill of pride. They made it. And yeah, she knows she shouldn’t be cheering on the competition. That’s pretty much the last thing you’re supposed to do while playing The Game but she can’t help it. 

Skye walks by and locks eyes with Jemma, smiling softly. “Nice trick.” 

“Thanks.” Jemma says, surprised that she’s able to remind herself to speak at all.

And just like that, Skye is gone and Jemma wishes that she had said something more impressive and stimulating than “thanks.” She can only hope that she didn’t have a starry-eyed expression on her face while she said it. 

Fitz elbows her and Jemma turns to look at him, surprised. “What was that?” He questions.

“What?” Jemma genuinely has no idea what he’s talking about. That happens sometimes with Fitz, if she’s being honest. 

Fitz just looks at her and rolls his eyes. “Forget it.” 

Jemma wants to press the issue but she also has the feeling that she knows exactly what he was trying to say. So she’d rather just ignore him.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are awesome! Thanks!

Chapter Two

Even though she and Fitz spend the first few weeks of summer doing the same things they've always done, Jemma suddenly finds herself feeling restless and bored. She's full of kinetic energy and doesn't seem to have an outlet; she's being wound up with no indication on when she's going to be let go again.

Jemma is sure that it's a combination of things getting to her. It's not all because of The Game. It's not all because of Skye. In fact, Jemma is loathe to admit that Skye has anything to do with it at all, seeing as Skye shouldn't be more than a blip on her radar, someone she's spoken to once and barely.

Instead, Jemma tells herself it's the heat, which has come on all of the sudden, thick and oppressive. She tells herself it's the fact that she can't seem to spend more than an hour or two in her house before she feels like she's going to go stir crazy; seeing her mother in her zombie like state and having to stare at the for sale sign in the front yard doesn't make her want to stick around. She tells herself it's because of letter sitting on her desk, awaiting attention that she doesn't want to give it.

So, instead, Jemma spends her time outside or at Fitz's house, which was like a second home long before this past year. It feels more like her home now than her own house does and Jemma tries not to find that whole idea incredibly depressing.

But the things they used to do suddenly hold only half of the appeal and Jemma finds herself in a constant state of impatience. She suddenly feels like she's always waiting. Waiting to see what will happen in the fall. Waiting to see if she'll have to say goodbye to Fitz. Waiting to see Skye again. Waiting for The Game.

Jemma thinks the fact that she and Fitz don't seem to talk about anything that actually matters only makes things worse. They don't talk about her mum or college or The Game and Jemma is tired of not talking about it but she's too exhausted to start the conversation herself. So things just go on as normal and she keeps waiting.

Two weeks after the first challenge, the heat is nearly unbearable and Jemma thinks that she might just die before they even make it to the end of June. If they really wanted to see who win The Game, the judges should just make one of the challenges standing outside in the middle of the afternoon and whoever doesn't faint or die of heat stroke is the obvious winner.

When Fitz suggests that they go get ice cream or maybe just a bag of ice they can cuddle until it melts, Jemma doesn't protest that idea. It seems unlikely that the ice cream will be able to withstand the heat but she's willing to give it a shot, even if it's just for a few minutes' reprieve.

Jemma isn't surprised to see that half of the teenage popular has apparently had the same idea and is crowding the Dairy Queen like it's the last place on Earth. She garners a lot more attention than she figures she would otherwise and Jemma feels that same trill of excitement flash through her body as people nod or smile at her. Not only is she competing in The Game but she made it through the first challenge when ten of the other competitors failed to do exactly that. It's exciting to finally be noticed.

Even though the crowd at Dairy Queen doesn't come as a surprise, the fact that Skye is among them does. Jemma picks her out almost instantly; she stands out, even when that's obviously not her intention. Jemma feels her heart jump into her chest and a feeling of boldness licks through her body like fire, igniting her brain and urging her to move toward Skye, to actually talk to her for more than two seconds.

But wanting to do something and actually doing it are two different things.

Instead of going over to Skye, Jemma just lets herself be moved along in the queue, listening to Fitz debate ice cream flavors as he always does, without fail, but not really hearing a word that he's saying. She's too busy resisting the urge to glance over her shoulder to see if Skye is still standing in the cluster of people.

Maria is working behind the counter and looks like she's hanging on by a thread. She looks flustered and frazzled and Jemma can't blame her; she can't even imagine what it would be like to be stuck working on a day like this, bustling back and forth and putting up with inane comments about her uniform and stupid questions about the ice cream from her humor-challenged classmates. Jemma tries to remember the last time she saw Maria, competing in the first challenge of The Game but most of that night has become a blur thanks to the adrenaline and surreal quality of actually walking across the plank. Well, crawling but still. Sometimes Jemma can't believe she actually did something so ridiculous.

Sometimes she wonders what ridiculous thing she'll have to do next.

Maria gives Jemma a brief but knowing smile but doesn't acknowledge the two of them anymore than she's done most of the people who came in line before them. Fitz orders the same flavor that he always gets despite his earlier soliloquy and Jemma gets a scoop of vanilla in a cone because she can't stand the idea of anything too sweet with the weather as hot as it is.

When Maria hands over the ice cream, Jemma is surprised to see that there's something written down on the napkin wrapped around the base of the cone. She pulls the napkin free and studies the sloppy scrawl. Garrett's Field, Friday, midnight.

The Game. Jemma feels her body suddenly come alive with excitement. This is it. The next challenge is only a few days away. She knows that she should be feeling more trepidation than she currently is but she can't help it. Her curiosity is starting to get the better of her.

"What's that?" Fitz questions, trying to peek over her shoulder.

Quickly, Jemma crumbles the napkin up in her fist, hiding it from his view. He gives her a wounded look and she instantly regrets her actions; they aren't supposed to talk about The Game, they're supposed to keep the challenges and the rules and locations a secret from the others in town. But this is Fitz; her first instinct shouldn't be to hide things from Fitz.

Jemma hands over the napkin guiltily as they walk away from the counter and find a booth toward the back of the store. Fitz smoothes the napkin out on the tabletop and reads the words over a few times before looking up at Jemma. "Garrett's field?" He mumbles thoughtfully. "What's out there?"

"I don't know." Jemma says with a shrug, taking the napkin back and tucking it into her pocket. "I don't think anything."

Nothing but a whole lot of overgrown farm land and woods that are slowly encroaching upon the property once more. And one ramshackle farmhouse that used to be picturesque and perfect if the stories are to be believed. John Garrett used to grow strawberries and tomatoes and sunflowers on his property, until his wife was killed in a car accident and he slowly started to drink himself into oblivion. Now the stories that people tell involve angry old drunks and even angrier dogs that will apparently eat trespassers if they get too close.

Jemma isn't sure how much of the stories that she believes, seeing as she's never been close to Garrett's property and can't confirm any of them for herself. But she has the feeling that she's going to soon find out exactly what's going on out there.

Fitz makes a thoughtful noise as he tries to eat his ice cream fast enough to stop it from melting. "There has to be something, if that's where the next challenge will be." He arches an eyebrow. "Maybe you have to plow a field."

Jemma rolls her eyes. "I'm not sure that fits in with the typical challenges."

"Give me time, I'm sure I can think of something better." Fitz retorts. "We can brainstorm so you aren't going in completely blind."

"But that's kind of the point, Fitz." Jemma protests. "You aren't supposed to be able to prepare for the next challenge."

Fitz gives her a doubtful look. "Did I just hear you correctly? Jemma Simmons doesn't want to prepare for something?"

Jemma rolls her eyes at him once more, shaking her head. "That's just not how The Game works." She mumbles weakly.

It sounds better than pointing out that all the planning in the world doesn't amount for shit when it really comes down to it. She knows that better than anyone.

From where she's sitting, Jemma can still see Skye, sitting at a table with Miles Lydon and several other faces Jemma only recognizes from looking through her yearbook. Apparently no matter how many times Jemma thought this town was stifling in its smallness and how tired she was of seeing the same faces over and over again, apparently there were still plenty of things she never uncovered at all. Like Skye.

Skye looks over at her suddenly, as though summoned by Jemma's attention and Jemma glances away quickly, pretending to be fascinated with her rapidly melting ice cream cone. She chances a glance back in Skye's direction and is surprised to see the other girl still watching her. Jemma thinks about going back to pretending that there's nothing more important in the world than her ice cream but she thinks about the napkin still in her pocket and how that's probably the best excuse to talk to Skye that she's ever going to get it and if she doesn't take it then she's just an idiot.

"Where are you going?" Fitz questions when Jemma gets to her feet and he looks even more confused when she hands over her ice cream cone. "Jemma?"

"I'll be right back." Jemma says, forcing herself to walk away from the table before she can convince herself not to be ridiculous. She's just going to talk to Skye about The Game; it's hardly the same thing as asking her out on a date or something.

Though now that Jemma is thinking about that particular scenario, her cheeks start to color and she feels like she's floundering. But she presses on because she can't think of anything more embarrassing than standing in the middle of a Dairy Queen like she has no idea what she's doing.

"Hey." Jemma says when she comes to stand beside Skye's table and she smiles at Skye, completing forgetting to acknowledge the handful of other people around her.

But Skye just smiles in return and Jemma thinks it's strange how she can feel more at ease while simultaneously wondering if she's ever been this nervous before. It's like standing on the edge of the quarry and looking down and wondering if she will really be able to jump.

And then Jemma realizes that everyone, including Skye, is looking at her expectantly and she really hopes that the blush that she feels spreading across her skin really isn't as noticeable as she fears. "I…uh…I just wanted to give you this." Jemma reaches into her pocket and pulls out the napkin, thrusting it in Skye's direction quickly.

She's had crushes before. Normally she's better at acting like they don't exist and proceeding with life as normal. Clearly the key was in never actually talking to the girl that she was crushing on.

Skye reaches for the napkin but her eyes don't leave Jemma's. "Thanks." She says and the tips of her fingers brush against Jemma's.

Jemma pulls her hand away quickly and clears her throat. "I guess I'll…I'll just see you around." She turns to leave and bangs into the table, barking her hip against the corner but the pain is nothing compared to the embarrassment that she's currently feeling. Everyone at the table laughs but Skye but Jemma is too busy trying to walk away with her remaining dignity to really overanalyze.

"What was all that about?" Fitz questions as soon as Jemma walks back over to the table.

"Let's just go." She mutters, taking back the ice cream when he offers it to her. "Now."

Jemma tosses her ice cream into the trash on the way out and even though she doesn't look over in Skye's direction, she imagines that the other girl is watching her anyway and Jemma can only imagine the sorts of thoughts currently running through her mind. Idiot, Jemma shakes her head as she gets into the passenger seat of Fitz's car. Next time, she's just going to suggest that they stay home.

\----------------

Jemma taps her leg anxiously as she stares out the window, watching the houses and neighborhoods and shops slowly start to disappear and become replaced by long stretches of land and the occasional farmhouse and copse of trees. The closer they get to Garrett's Field, the more she feels like she's just going to put her head out the window and throw up. But there's also an odd sense of calm that's spreading over her. Whatever is going to happen is about to happen and then it'll be over. Even if she loses, it'll be over.

Seventy thousand dollars, Jemma reminds herself, don't lose.

"Are you nervous?" Fitz questions, sounding a little bit nervous himself. Jemma just glares at him, not bothering to respond. He nods and taps his fingers against the steering wheel. "Right. Stupid question."

Soon the headlights stare to illuminate other cars parked along the side of the road, even though they're still a quarter mile away from Garrett's Field. Fitz pulls off the road but hesitates before turning the car off. "You don't have-"

Jemma unbuckles her seatbelt and steps out. If she lets Fitz finish that sentence, she might ask him to turn the car around. Fitz doesn't say anything else, he just gets out of the car as well and they start walking down the unpaved road toward the field. Jemma can't hear the same excited noise from before and for some reason that feels oddly foreboding. It makes her worry about what they're going to have to do.

Jemma glances around as they walk, trying to get some idea of what the challenge will be. As far as she knows, Garrett owns all the land around them, at least ten acres of what was once profitable and healthy farmland. Now it's overgrown and the fences are falling down or snared by weeds. The weeds and brambles in the fields themselves are at least waist high and probably crawling with bugs and snakes and god only knows what if Jemma had to guess. It makes her skin crawl thinking about it, especially in this heat.

The gathering of their classmates comes into view before Garrett's farmhouse and Jemma figures that has something to do with the hush. Clearly, they're trying not to announce their presence. There's no music and no drinking or excited chatter. The only light comes from the screens of everyone's cell phones and there's a nervous atmosphere clinging as oppressively as the heat.

Despite the heat, Jemma wraps her arms around herself and scans the crowd around them. Eventually Bennett Halverson comes walking over but Fitz barely acknowledges her presence; he looks as anxious as the rest of them, like he's actually going to be competing.

Jemma can't keep herself from asking, "Any idea what the challenge is going to be?"

Bennett just shrugs and makes circles in the dirt with the nose of her shoe. "I heard something about dogs."

"Dogs?" Jemma repeats even though she knows that she hasn't misheard the other girl.

Of course dogs. Garrett's pack of feral beasts, rumored to tear intruders limb from limb if they step foot on the property. Jemma's father used to warn her against playing out there, as though she was the type of kid to go taking dares and gallivanting across private property with the rest of her classmates. Apparently Garrett was paranoid as well as drunk and figured the angry dogs were a great deterrent for people who wanted to rob from him. Jemma had heard that warning from her father time and time again. She tries not to think about him now. He'd be so disappointed, knowing that she was out here now, getting ready to take a dare and go gallivanting across Garrett's property with her classmates.

But the dogs make sense. It explains why everyone is being quiet. No need to alert Garrett to their presence until they've already gotten started with the challenge.

From where Jemma is standing, she can't really see Garrett's house or the dogs but she still finds herself standing on her tiptoes, peering through the darkness. Not to see the dogs, she realizes. But to find Skye.

And there she is, talking to Miles and Tony Stark, their voices too low for Jemma to hear what they're saying. Skye doesn't look over at her and even though Jemma tells herself that's a good thing, especially considering how they left things last time, she still feels a sting of disappointment.

Over the next twenty minutes, they're joined by the rest of the competitors and another handful of spectators. Jemma is surprised by the amount of people who have come out to watch, though she's not sure why. The Game is pretty much the only source of entertainment in the whole town, especially during the summer. What else are they going to do after dark?

Everyone makes a circle around Tripp, who manages to speak loudly without seeming to shout. Jemma tries to swallow but her mouth is too dry, her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.

"So everyone will start at the farm house," Tripp is explaining, "and there are flags with everyone's name on them tied up at various places in the field. All you have to do is get your flag and get out."

Sounds simple enough. Jemma almost rolls her eyes.

"What about the dogs?" Someone calls out. "And Garrett?"

Tripp just nods. "Well, that's the point. You have to get your flag without getting attacked by the dogs or shot by Garrett."

"He's joking." Fitz mutters to himself. "Of course he's joking. You know, about the getting shot part."

Jemma kinda thinks that he's not.

"The dogs are going to go crazy as soon as we get close enough to the house." Tripp tells them. "Climb the fence and start running. The flags are placed according to how well you did in the last round."

Jemma thinks about her own time and wonders if forty seconds is going to lessen her chances of being mauled by a dog or increase them.

"The flags will be easy to see. If you take someone else's flag for whatever reason, you will be disqualified and there will be consequences." Tripp tells the group gathered around him. "Any questions?"

There's a pause and then someone speaks, though Jemma can't tell who it is. "Are the dogs really going to be out?" The tone of her voice suggests that the dogs are more terrifying than the quarry and the water towers put together.

Tripp nods and there's a bit of nervous chattering amongst the group. Jemma wonders if someone will refuse to compete or climb the fence. The idea briefly flits through her mind. Seventy thousand dollars she thinks and then thinks yeah but dogs have sharp fucking teeth. Maybe they aren't as scary as everyone seems to believe they are.

Once no one else has anything to say, they start moving, en masse, toward the farmhouse. With each step, everyone grows quieter until no one is talking at all, not even the people who don't have to climb the fence into crazy dog territory.

"Jemma…" Fitz says softly when the farmhouse comes into view. Jemma looks at him anxiously and there's a part of her that's hoping he suggests turning around. But he just sighs and offers her a wane smile. "You can do this. Just run like hell."

Jemma nods and takes a breath. "Thanks."

As soon as they get within a few feet of the farmhouse, the yard suddenly erupts with the sounds of barking. It sounds like a kennel, like there are hundreds of dogs out there in the darkness. And they all have deep, bellowing barks; not a little yipper to be heard.

One of the dogs, a shepard of some kind, jumps at the fence, baying, before shying away because of the barbed wire at the top.

"Yeah, fuck this." Maria mutters and throws her hands up. She glares at Tripp. "I'm not doing this."

Jemma doesn't bother to overheard the rest of the argument. She's too busy staring at the dogs, which are just dark shapes in the blackness, and out at the field beyond. She can't see even a single flag from where she's standing. Clearly even the best time isn't going to get their flag just handed to them.

Without even meaning to, Jemma finds herself looking for Skye again but she can't see her among the crowd. Oh well. She has more important things to worry about right now.

On Tripp's mark, the competitors move toward the fence. Jemma tries to give Fitz a reassuring smile as she steps away from him. She doubts it looks very convincing because all she can think about how much it would hurt to be killed by a bunch of dogs. Her mother would be so disappointed if she was mauled to death. Jemma thinks anyway.

Jemma takes off the thin cardigan she's been wearing over her tank top and holds it in her hands, twisting the fabric taunt as she waits to be given the signal to climb. She feels bad for the classmates that don't have something to separate themselves from the barbed wire. Her cardigan might not be much but at least it's something.

And then Tripp whistles and Jemma throws the cardigan across the top of the fence and hoists herself over. The people on either side of her are doing the same thing, jumping over to the other side. Jemma's feet touch the ground and she stumbles but doesn't fall.

Then, it's pandemonium.

Jemma feels like she can't even think because of all the barking. It's like a wave crashing into her over and over, blocking out anything else other than the thought that suggests that this is really not the place she needs to be. And suddenly there are people yelling and screaming; the spectators are shouting words and phrases but Jemma can't understand them for the life of her. The guy who scaled the fence beside her is trying to climb back over but one of the dogs grabs him back the back of his shirt and they both go crashing to the ground.

The porch light finally clicks on, flooding the yard in brightness and Jemma finally feels like she can move. It feels like she's been standing there, rooted, for years but she doubts it's been more than a few seconds.

Jemma doesn't stop to see what the dogs do next or who is still planning on playing The Game or what Garrett does once he steps out onto the porch. She just takes off running in what she hopes is the vague direction of where the flags are hanging. Honestly, she doesn't really care at this point. It's the opposite direction of where the dogs are and that's good enough for her.

Everyone seems to be moving in that direction too. At least, the ones who aren't dealing with the dogs or trying to get back over the fence. Jemma can hear Garrett yelling, his voice booming louder than even the baying of the dogs. Jemma just keeps running. Finally she starts seeing streaks of red in her peripheral and she forces herself to stop and slow, to remember what she's supposed to be doing there.

There are people passing by her, some already holding flags and Jemma momentarily panics. But Tripp didn't mention anything about a time limit; all he said was get the flag and go. So that's what she's going to do: get the flag and not get mauled by dogs.

Unfortunately, the dogs still seem very interested in their presence there. She can hear them moving through the tall grass even though she can't see them and that's somehow even more unnerving. Jemma tries not to look back, she just focuses on running forward, looking for the flags and swatting the grass and weeds out of her way.

Something catches around her ankle and Jemma can't stop herself from falling and the weeds slap against her face as she goes down. Panic flashes through her mind and all she can think about is the dogs and how she's a goner now that she's on their level.

And then someone is grabbing her, yanking her roughly to her feet and urging her to run, dragging and pulling her forward. Jemma follows the command without even thinking about it, forcing her legs to start moving again. Jemma looks over and is surprised to see Skye there beside her, still grasping her hand tightly and moving her forward.

"Wait," Jemma pants, slowly slightly as she turns to glance over her shoulder, "my flag…"

Skye just looks at her and smiles, holding up two pieces of red fabric. One of them clearly as Jemma's name written across it and for some reason, the only thing Jemma can think to say is, "That's against the rules. Tripp said we couldn't take each others-"

"I'm not taking it." Skye assures her with an eye roll. "I'm going to give it to you. I promise. Now shut up and run."

So Jemma does. Because she can't think of a compelling argument not to.

Finally the reach a falling down fence at the edge of the property and Jemma is up and over before she even thinks about it. There's no barbed wire, so it's no longer necessary for her to use her cardigan. Jemma has no idea how she even managed to keep hold of it given everything else that was happening. She also has no idea where any of the rest of the competitors are or even where she is. There's no more sounds of barking or shouting, so Jemma considers that to be a good thing.

It feels good to stop running. Jemma wants to lay down on the ground and just close her eyes but she already feels undignified enough thanks to the way that she's gasping for breath. At least Skye is breathing heavily too, her hair in a wild tangle around her face and shoulders.

Jemma looks at their surroundings in order to keep from looking at Skye. She can't see the road from where they are; there's nothing but thick, dense woods and dense undergrowth. If it wasn't for the moon shining overhead, Jemma thinks she wouldn't be able to see Skye either. The woods are a little eerie in the sudden silence and Jemma shivers despite the heat and the fact that she feels like she just ran a marathon. She doesn't know where she is or how to get back to Fitz or to her house and it suddenly seems too easy to get completely turned around and lost forever. She might have escaped the dogs but she'll just die of hunger and exposure in the woods. Great.

But at least she's not alone. She's with Skye. Skye. The woods suddenly don't seem so bad…

Skye hands over her flag and Jemma looks at it. All this for a stupid scrap of fabric. "Thanks." She looks up at Skye. "For everything. I thought I was going to be bitten for sure."

Skye just shrugs but Jemma can see that she's trying to hide a pleased smile. "No problem."

Jemma thinks about pressing the issue, reminding Skye that it's unlikely that anyone else would have stopped to help her seeing as she probably would have been eliminated and suddenly she's desperate to know why Skye did stop but Skye doesn't give her the chance to ask. She just starts walking and gestures for Jemma to follow. "Come on, let's get out of here."

For lack of anything better to do, Jemma just follows Skye. Skye seems sure-footed and confident despite the darkness and the thick foliage and Jemma just tries to follow as closely as possible, trying not to stumble or get hit the face with branches.

It seems like they're going deeper into the woods instead of toward the road and finally Jemma huffs out a breath and stops. "Where are we going?" She questions and she hates how her voice sounds a little petulant. "Are you lost?"

Skye just scoffs and gives Jemma a doubtful look. "Lost? No." She arches an eyebrow. "Are you?"

Jemma just frowns and doesn't say anything.

Skye smiles at her and Jemma hates the way that she's suddenly less frustrated about the fact that Skye has been marching her through the woods.

"So looks like you have to trust me then." Skye remarks and starts walking again.

Jemma hates that she's right. So follows after Skye, asking, "But where are we going?"

"We're almost there." Skye assures her. "It's just a little bit farther."

They walk for a few more minutes in silence, mostly because Jemma is so focused on watching where she's going. But finally the trees start to thin out and Jemma can see a field stretching out before them. Thankfully this one is devoid of dogs.

Skye leads her across the field toward a shed that is keeping up a lone vigil in the middle of the space. Whatever else used to be there is long gone and Jemma honestly has no idea how this building is still standing; the roof is starting to cave in on itself and the glass on the windows is long gone. There's weeds and vines snaking up the outside and the foundation hardly looks stable.

Skye pushes the door open with casual ease and Jemma follows her into the building. "What is this place?"

"I hang out here sometimes." Skye tells her and Jemma can hear her moving around but it's too dark to see her. "Whenever I need a break or to be by myself."

Suddenly Skye is illuminated by a camping lamp that she's holding in one hand. She moves around to switch three more on and the shed is suddenly bright and would almost be cheery if it wasn't the complete opposite of cheerful. Jemma's eyes scan the space; there are a few boxes in one corner, a pile of blankets spread out on the ground. From the outside, the shed looks like a strong wind could blow it over but inside it seems almost homey. Almost.

Skye takes one of the blankets and brings it over, spreading it out across the ground and sitting down so Jemma sits too and even though she wants to ask why they came here instead of going back to town she doesn't. Because she finds that she really doesn't care. She's exhausted and her body is still thrumming with adrenaline and nervous energy and her legs and arms are scratched and raw from the grass but she doesn't care. Because she's sitting here with Skye and Jemma feels like that has to mean something.

"So why do you hang out here?" Jemma questions, glancing around. "It's a little…dreary."

"I'll have you know this is prime real estate." Skye assures her in mock seriousness. "I mean, just look at that ceiling." They both crane their heads upward and Jemma sees that the roof is holey in more than a few places. "You have your own skylight and everything."

Jemma laughs and leans back the rest of the way, finally giving in to how tired her body feels. She rests her head on her cardigan, which has apparently gone from protecting her from barbed wire to serving as a makeshift pillow. Two things she'd definitely not thought would happen when she'd picked the item out at the store. Skye lays down next to her and Jemma thinks of how it felt when they were holding hands, even though they were just running away from vicious animals. She's trying to look on the bright side.

"See," Skye says, "it's not so bad. If you squint, you can almost pretend like you can see the stars."

Jemma rolls her eyes but she's smiling anyway. "I suppose you're right. What was I thinking?"

"I think I can forgive you, just this once." Skye teases. "But don't press your luck, Simmons."

"Oh, I won't." Jemma assures her. "I'm already indebted to you, after all, for not letting me be mauled by dogs. That deserves at least a thank you card."

"Well, I'll be expecting one." Skye remarks and Jemma finds that she really likes the way that Skye smiles, like she's trying not to but isn't quite succeeding. Skye sits up and reaches for the red flag with her name on it. "So what are we supposed to do with this now? Because I sure as hell didn't go running through that field for my own entertainment."

Jemma shrugs, sitting up as well. "I don't know." She admits. "But I'm sure we'll find out soon enough. The judges always seem to have a plan for everything."

Skye scoffs and tosses the flag aside. "Yeah, and this time their plan involved really angry dogs. Great. Can't wait to see what they come up with next."

Even though she knows it's not her business, even though it's one of those things that no one really talks about, Jemma can't help but ask, "So why are you playing? I mean…what would you do…if you won?"

Skye arches an eyebrow. "Well…if I told you, I'd have to kill you." She winks like she did that first afternoon, right before she jumped off the top of the quarry.

Jemma feels the same way she did then: her heart jumps in her chest and she feels a wave of longing course through her body. "So kill me." Jemma says with a shrug. "But first, tell me all your secrets."

She immediately wishes that she could take the words back. She has no idea why she said them or what part of her brain told her it was a good idea to blurt that out. This stupid game is making her bold but, at the heart of it all, she's still just Jemma Simmons and she doesn't know how to be bold.

But Skye just looks amused and her eyes flash mischievously. "Where would be the fun in that?" She teases. "I think I'll keep you around for a little while longer."

Jemma doesn't want to, but she likes the sound of that.

tbc.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: You guys are so awesome! Thank you so much for the feedback and thoughts and all the positive words! It means so much and I hope you continue to enjoy it!

Chapter Three

They don't stay in Skye's secret hideaway for much longer because when Jemma grudgingly suggests that they head back home, Skye agrees. Jemma checks and triple checks that she has her flag tucked safely in her pocket before she follows Skye out of the shed and across the field. She still doesn't know where she is, not exactly, but she feels better about her prospects now that they're out of the woods. Thankfully Skye doesn't seem inclined to leave her to find her own way.

"Do you live around here?" Jemma questions as they finally make their way back to the road. The moon is still bright overhead so it's easy to see the road and the fields and Skye beside her.

Skye makes a vague gesture that seems to encompass the space all around them rather than a specific direction. "Around." She says with a shrug. "Not too far."

"You don't have to go out of your way." Jemma says even though she knows the words are a lie the second they come out of her mouth. "That's not necessary."

But Skye smiles at her and shrugs. "I'm still too hyped up to sleep anyway." She assures Jemma. "I don't mind."

Jemma doesn't mind either. Not at all. She also doesn't mind the fact that, even though it seems like they have the whole world to themselves at this hour, they're walking close enough together that they occasionally brush against each other.

As they walk, Jemma finally thinks to pull her phone out of her pocket and isn't at all surprised to see that there's about fifty texts from Fitz, most of them containing only her name and a dozen exclamation marks. She feels bad for waiting for long to text him but, you know, Skye…. Jemma sends him a quick message now, assuring him that she's safe and home (only a half lie) and that they'll get together in the morning.

Jemma is also surprised to see that there's a message from an unknown number, which is definitely not something that often happens to her. "Oh." Jemma says when she reads the message, stopping to give her full concentration to the screen. "It's about The Game."

Skye comes to stand beside her, peering over her shoulder to read the message. They're so close that Jemma can feel the heat of her body and feel strands of Skye's tangled hair brushing against her shoulders. Her mouth goes dry again, just like it did when she was waiting to climb into a field full of angry dogs.

Jemma wonders if it means something that being around Skye makes her feel the same way she does right before she's about to do something really stupid and dangerous.

The text message is simple: in order to prove that they've successfully completed the second challenge, they have to send a picture of themselves holding their flag to this number. Easy enough. Jemma takes Skye's picture and vice versa and when they're done, Skye lets out a whoop and tosses her flag into the air, catching it again easily. "Two down." She grins at Jemma. "Only four to go."

Once again, Jemma wants to ask Skye why she's playing and putting herself through all this craziness but she doesn't. She thinks seventy thousand dollars and figures it's probably better if she doesn't know why Skye is thinking the exact same thing.

It's nearly three in the morning when Jemma finally lets herself into her house. The house is perfectly still and dark around her; the only sound comes from the clicking of her mother's antique clock in the den. Her mother is no doubt sleeping soundly, completely unaware.

Jemma starts to ease the door shut behind her so she doesn't push her luck but then she can't help but slam it closed as hard as she can. Just to see if her mother will come storming out of her bedroom and demand to know why her daughter is getting home at three in the morning. But there's nothing.

Jemma tries not to feel bitterly disappointed. She just storms past her mother's bedroom and into her own room, stripping off her dirty and sweaty clothes and falling into bed, suddenly too tired to do anything else.

In the morning, Jemma feels groggy and disoriented, confused by the late hour and the stifling heat in the bedroom. It's already closer to noon than not and Jemma can't remember the last time she woke up this late. It takes her only a second to figure out why she's half naked with scratches and welts down her arms and hands. There are definitely things about last night that seem like a dream and not the surreal sort of did I really go running through a field of angry, killer dogs for a piece of fabric type dream but a did I really spend a few hours with Skye last night dream. The picture of Skye that she took last night is still on her phone and Jemma smiles to herself.

And, embarrassingly enough, she keeps that sleepy, stupid sort of smile on her face throughout her shower and lazy morning routine.

Jemma is braiding her wet hair as she walks into the kitchen and finds her mother sitting at the kitchen table, the paper spread out in front of her and mug sitting, untouched, beside her. As though it's still early morning and not almost noon. Not that Jemma really has any room to talk but at least she has an excuse.

Katherine glances up at her and for a moment, Jemma thinks she's about to be called out on coming home late and sleeping until noon. But Katherine just smiles her constantly wane smile and mutters a greeting before going back to studying the paper. Jemma figures that most kids would be happy to get away with sneaking out of the house, trespassing, staying out with a girl and then slinking back home at three in the morning. But Jemma is just disappointed.

Jemma rummages around in the cabinets and fridge, not because she's hungry but because she doesn't really know what else to do. "There's someone coming by to look at the house in a few hours." Katherine tells her after a few minutes of Jemma's fruitless searching.

"Fine." Jemma mutters. "I'll go over to Fitz's."

Katherine nods and Jemma finally gives up her search and just grabs an empty glass and fills it with water from the pitcher in the fridge. "The realtor says the couple is really interested in the space." She tells Jemma. "They were very adamant about setting up a viewing."

"Great." Jemma says sarcastically. She just barely manages to stop from rolling her eyes even though that's exactly what she wants to do.

Her mother lets out an exasperated sigh and shakes her head. "This is important, Jemma. We need to sell. And then everything will start to improve, you'll see."

But Jemma knows that's not going to be the case. Things aren't going to improve, not with the numbers that she's seen despite her mother's best efforts to keep the truth hidden from her. She's not an idiot. She knows about the debts, the bills, why her plans for the fall are no longer a reality.

"Whatever you say, Mum." Jemma mumbles and dumps the rest of her water down the sink.

"Jemma-"

"I'm going to Fitz's." Jemma walks out of the kitchen without a backward glance toward her mother. She knows from experience what she would see anyway: the vacant, tired look on Katherine's face, the way her reactions and movements are dulled by the medication that she still takes several times a day even though the doctor had prescribed them only as a temporary aid during the first month. Katherine is continually having them refilled and continually taking them. And Jemma is jumping off quarries and running from rabid dogs. Maybe they aren't so different after all.

It's too far to walk to Fitz's, especially in this heat, so Jemma calls Fitz and he picks up even before the phone has finished its first ring, agreeing to come pick her up. She can hear the relief in his voice as well as the eagerness that lets her know that he has something to tell her. She's sure it involves The Game. Everything seems to be about The Game recently.

"Thank god you're all right." Fitz says as Jemma gets into the passenger seat. "It was complete chaos. I wanted to stick around to make sure you weren't being killed by dogs but everyone was running and I couldn't see you and-"

"It's okay Fitz." Jemma interrupts with a smile, figuring that she needs to put a stop to his rambling now or he'll forget to take a breath. "It was probably a good idea to get out of there."

Fitz nods and taps anxiously on the steering wheel. "A couple people are in the hospital." He tells her. "Dog bites. Steve caught his leg on the barbed wire trying to climb back over the fence and tore a huge gash in his thigh. Fifteen stitches. One of the dogs bit Victoria in the face."

Jemma gapes at him, shocked. "Oh my gosh." She breathes. "That's horrible." Her heart quickens in her chest as she thinks about last night: the dogs, the noise, the sheer fear that gripped her mind and seemed to make it impossible to think.

But then she thinks about Skye smiling at her or the feeling of Skye brushing against her as they walked. Clearly, Jemma is not taking this whole thing seriously enough.

Fitz nods. "Yeah, horrible." He looks at Jemma. "It could have been you."

"Fitz." Jemma groans and leans back in her seat. "I'm fine. It wasn't me."

"Not this time." Fitz remarks. "You were lucky. But what's next? What could they possibly do that's even crazier? Plus the individual tests are going to start soon, or did you forget that little part?"

Jemma doesn't say anything. She had forgotten about the individual tasks. Honestly, she hadn't expected to make it far enough in The Game to even have to worry about that. The challenges they have to compete in as a group are bad enough but the individual tests are reportedly selected by the judges based on the personalities and fears of each player. They start after the third challenge is completed and are a further way to weed out the weak so that the competitors continue to dwindle until they finally get to the end. Jemma still has to make it through another challenge before she'll have that new threat to consider. One step at a time.

"Well, it's not like I can stop competing, Fitz." Jemma points out. "You know that."

"They can't force you to play, Jem." Fitz reminds her, giving her a pointed look. "They can't make you."

Jemma shrugs. "You know why I can't stop playing. It's my only option."

"No it isn't." Fitz grumbles, throwing up his hands in exasperation. "I'm pretty sure we could find a plan that doesn't involve you nearly being mauled by dogs."

"I wasn't nearly mauled." Jemma protests weakly. "That's a bit of an exaggeration."

Fitz just rolls his eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry. Fine. How 'bout a plan that doesn't require dogs to be anywhere in your vicinity, hmmm? Does that sound better? No water towers either. Or whatever bloody game they're going to come up with next."

Jemma just sighs and rests her forehead against the window, closing her eyes. "Fitz, please don't be mad at me. I'm too tired."

Just like Jemma expected he would, Fitz instantly softens and sighs, looking almost apologetic even though she can't help but agree with a lot of his points. But she doesn't tell him that. They just finish the ride in silence and Jemma almost thinks about telling him about Skye but she honestly doesn't know what she'd even say. What is there to even tell? She and Skye spent a little bit of time together and Skye walked her home? They touched, mostly by accident? Skye smiled at her and jokingly told her that she wanted to keep her around? Hardly things to write home about.

So Jemma just keeps them to herself, allowing herself to savor the brief interactions anyway. She feels like she's earned the right to do that.

\---------------------------

The people who were reportedly so interested in the house don't end up putting in an offer so it stays on the market and the sign stays in the yard and things stay the way they are. Katherine remains in her zombie-like state and Jemma continues spending as much time as she possibly can with Fitz and she's sure that Fitz's parents are sick of having her hanging around all the time even though they would never suggest otherwise.

It's this feeling of guilt that makes her agree when Fitz suggests they hang out at her place for a while because he's tired of seeing his own four walls. There's not a whole lot to do here either but they've long since perfected the art of doing nothing together and not really minding. Fitz doesn't seem to mind that Jemma is just laying around on her bed staring at the ceiling and Jemma doesn't seem to mind that Fitz is going through her things, embracing his inability to sit still and stop fidgeting.

Until, of course, he holds up that pesky letter that Jemma has been trying to ignore for the past few weeks. The one from Stanford, bearing her name in fancy script across a thick, cream colored envelope. She's read the contents of the letter several times but they never change, for better or worse.

"You still haven't sent back your response?" Fitz questions, giving Jemma a disappointed look.

"And say what, Fitz?" Jemma arches an eyebrow. "'My admittance hinges on whether I can win some foolish game?' Somehow I don't think that's the reply that they're looking for."

Fitz sets the letter aside. "You could win, you know." He says tentatively. "You could always plan ahead."

Jemma scoffs. "It's too early to think like that." She remarks dismissively. But she'd be lying if she said the idea wasn't already starting to take root in her own mind. And now she feels an added boost of confidence thanks to Fitz's words.

Thankfully, they don't get to explore the subject further. The doorbell rings and their heads turn in the vague direction of the front door. Jemma listens but there's nothing to indicate that Katherine is going to be the one to answer the summons. So Jemma eases herself off the bed and heads for the door with Fitz trailing behind.

As far as Jemma knows they aren't having anyone drop by to see the house anytime soon. And it's not like they get a lot of random visitors who stop by just to chat. Even though Jemma has no idea who will be waiting on the front stoop, she's still shocked to see Skye standing in front of her.

"Oh." Jemma says dumbly. "Skye."

Skye smiles and the gesture looks almost uncertain and nervous. Which is definitely a look Jemma hasn't seen on Skye's face before. "Hey. So I…" She holds up Jemma's cardigan and it isn't until that moment that Jemma even realizes that she left it behind a few days ago. "I just wanted to bring this by…I was in the…I was around."

Jemma reaches for the object in Skye's hands. "Thank you, Skye." She smiles shyly. "That was…thank you."

Skye smiles at her and they both seem momentarily frozen, unable to figure out what to do next now that they seem to have exhausted their script. But Jemma hardly minds because she has Skye standing on her doorstep with a smile on her face and that seems pretty perfect on its own. If she could speak, that would probably make it better though.

Fitz clears his throat and Jemma glances over her shoulder, momentarily surprised to see him standing there. Skye looks equally surprised, though her expression quickly shifts to the look of understanding and assumption that Jemma has seen (and ignored) throughout her high school career. She supposes that it's easy for people to mistake Fitz for her boyfriend given the amount of time they spend together and it's never really bothered her before because she hasn't cared about anyone else's assumptions. But she's never been struggling to find a way to say no, you're the one I want to kiss before.

"I just wanted to drop that by." Skye says, taking a step backward and off the front stoop. "I didn't mean to intrude or anything."

"You aren't intruding." Jemma says quickly. "Don't be silly. We were just talking about going for ice cream, weren't we Fitz."

Jemma wants to kill him when he looks at her blankly and goes. "We were?" Stupid Fitz.

But Jemma just breezes through it. "Yes, we were. You should join us." She smiles hopefully at Skye.

And that's how they all end up in Fitz's car, driving in awkward silence toward the Dairy Queen. It's hard to tell the exact source of the uncomfortable tension in the car; Jemma can't figure out if it's Fitz's obvious hatred for the situation he's currently in or her own jittery nerves at doing something with Skye. Even though she's still not quite sure this constitutes as 'doing something.' Not with Fitz glowering in the driver's seat.

Skye seems as aloof as always, sitting in the backseat and staring out the window. Occasionally their eyes will meet in the side mirror and Jemma tries to think of something to say to get them all talking but she keeps coming up empty. Thank goodness for the radio.

The Dairy Queen is just as busy today as it was the last time that Jemma was here, though there are some faces missing. A few of the competitors are still in the hospital, still recovering from their meeting with Garrett's dogs but that hasn't seemed to alter the festive mood of the summer. Or the anticipation that is already growing over the next stage of the competition.

Even though the group that Jemma often sees Skye hanging around with are at their usual table, Skye doesn't do more than acknowledge them with a wave, continuing to stand beside Jemma in line instead of going over to talk to them. Jemma tries not to convince herself that that means more than it probably does.

"So, what do you think you'll get?" Jemma questions just because she can't stand to let the silence between them continue, even if it means talking about something as pointless as ice cream.

"Well, I was thinking about-" Fitz starts like it's only logical that she was asking him.

But Jemma glares at him, cutting him off. "You always get the same thing, Fitz." She points out, perhaps a little too harshly given the hurt look that flashes across his face. She glances at Skye instead. "What about you?"

Skye just shrugs. "I don't really like ice cream." She says.

"So why did you come?" Fitz questions, still sounding slightly wounded.

Another shrug from Skye. "What else is there to do?"

Jemma tries not to take it personally.

They get their ice cream (well, she and Fitz get ice cream anyway) and go find a table outside and Skye sits down on the bench seat next to Jemma and Jemma wonders if she's reading way too much into the little things or if she's supposed to be doing exactly that. Fitz quickly gets back up again to go inside, realizing that they forget to grab napkins and there's no way they're going to be able to compete with the heat rapidly melting their ice cream and Jemma glances over at Skye as soon as he disappears back inside. She's feeling particularly bold again, like she did that night after the second challenge when she implored Skye to tell her all her secrets. "He's not my boyfriend, you know."

Jemma tries to say this casually, like maybe it matters or maybe it doesn't. Like she's just making conversation.

Skye nods but doesn't say anything but there's a pleased smile on her face that seems to say it all anyway.

When Fitz comes back to the table, they do a better job of making stilted conversation than they did during the drive over. Skye seems to give a lot of vague, half answers to Fitz's questions and Jemma feels like she talks more than she has all summer just to keep things from slipping back into uncomfortable silence.

They finally head back to Jemma's and Skye declines the offer to stick around but it doesn't seem like she's desperate to escape, just that it's time for her to move on and go do whatever mysterious and aloof things that she always does. Jemma once again envies Skye's casual confidence when Skye suggests that they swap numbers and makes it sound like the most normal and obvious thing in the world.

After Skye leaves, Jemma tries not to think about Skye's number waiting in her phone. She could text or call whenever she wants now, just to say hello or even, if she ever completely loses her senses and good judgment, to suggest that they do something together. Jemma wonders if she'll ever actually use Skye's number.

"So you're spending time with Skye now?" Fitz questions almost the second that the door shuts and it's just the two of them once more.

"Just because of The Game, Fitz." Jemma points out, going for indifferent and disinterested.

Fitz doesn't look like he believes her. "What about this?" He points to the tattered cardigan, draped carelessly across the arm of the couch.

Jemma shrugs. "We just hung out for a while after the challenge the other night. I must have left it behind."

Fitz lets out a little humph and Jemma arches an eyebrow. "Why does it matter?" She questions, studying him closely.

"It doesn't." Fitz tells her dismissively. "It doesn't matter."

But it does and, honestly, Jemma already knows why. But she doesn't want to get ahead of herself, not when it comes to The Game and not when it comes to Skye.

\-------------------------

It's disappointing that the next week or so passes much like the days and weeks before it. No more surprise visits from Skye, though they have exchanged a few basic texts here and there. There's not much to say, not really; the town remains unchanged, the summer marching forward like it always does. The only excitement to speak of comes in the form of parties and shindigs that Jemma doesn't go to and The Game.

As far as Jemma knows, The Game is still on track even though there's been a renewed police interest since the incident out at Garrett's Field. Even though kids in the hospital have kept their silence, chalking their presence in the field up to a stupid dare and too much drinking, even though none of them were actually drunk in the slightest. But without even a single person talking, there's nothing the cops can do but voice their frustration and wait around to see what happens next.

Jemma definitely knows plenty about waiting. It seems like that's all she does anymore. Waiting for the fall, waiting for the house to finally sell, waiting for her mother to get back to normal. She hates waiting; she hates not being in control of the things that happen. At least with The Game, she has a little bit of her control back.

Jemma is dragging the trashcans out to the curb when she spots Skye making her way down the road like there's not a place in the world that she'd rather be. Jemma feels a surge of excitement just at the sight of her and she can't decide if she should wait around for her to get closer or if that's too much of an assumption and she should head back toward her house. Thankfully Skye spares her several agonizing seconds of debate by waving to her.

"Hey." Jemma says when Skye comes to join her at the edge of the driveway. "What are you up to?"

Skye shrugs. "Just heading back from hanging out with Miles." She tells Jemma.

Jemma makes a thoughtful, noncommittal noise. Miles. They seem to spend a lot of time together. She tries not to let that matter.

"I was close so I thought I'd stop by and make sure you heard the news. The next challenge is going to be Wednesday night at some place in town called Coulson's."

Jemma arches an eyebrow. "Coulson's? Like the store? The place that sells all that touristy junk?" As far as she can tell, it seems like the type of place that sells cliché things like monogrammed towels and college team memorabilia and other cutesy, fad type items for way too much money.

Skye shrugs. "I guess."

"Well that's vaguely troublesome." Jemma mutters. "I can't think of anything good that can come from this."

"Isn't that kinda the point?" Skye questions with a smirk. "Vaguely troublesome things that we all do anyway."

Jemma sighs and just purses her lips. "Yes, I suppose so…" She hesitates for a moment before asking, "Would you like to…" Jemma trials off before she can finish the statement because suddenly she's remembering Katherine and her glossy eyes and the oppressive silence and emptiness that seems to hang in the house all the time now. It seems weird to even consider Skye coming into that part of her world; the idea of Skye meeting her mother feels oddly embarrassing and Jemma isn't quite sure why.

Thankfully, Skye seems to sense her reluctance because she just shakes her head. "I should get home." She says, almost regretfully. "But maybe some other time."

Jemma nods, feeling suddenly dizzy with the possibility. "Yes. Another time."

Another time, when things might be different. When she might be different.

"See you Wednesday." Skye continues her journey down the street but pauses, turning back to glance at Jemma. "He's not my boyfriend, you know." She calls back.

It takes Jemma only a second to realize what Skye is talking about, using her words from the day at Dairy Queen and undoubtedly talking about Miles. Jemma doesn't even bother to try to play it cool and casual. She just grins back at Skye.

tbc.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! You guys rock! That pretty much says it all I think! Also I'm sorry this chapter is a little bit long; it was either super short or maybe a little bit too long so I went with long to make up for the filler that was the last chapter. So I hope you continue to read and enjoy and, as always, I'll continue to welcome your thoughts and feedback! Thanks!

Chapter Four

Jemma tells Fitz about the upcoming challenge but she doesn't mention where she got her information from. It seems strange to be actively keeping something from him, to be compartmentalizing her life when they've done everything else together since they were little kids. But things have been strange recently, tense in a way that Jemma can't put her finger on and it only seems to get worse whenever Skye is brought into the conversation. Jemma isn't even sure that it matters, which is why she hasn't mentioned it to Fitz. It's not like she has to figure out how to help her girlfriend and her best friend get along. Skye isn't her girlfriend, not even close. They're barely friends, if she's being honest with herself.

So Jemma just doesn't mention Skye and it never seems to even occur to Fitz that she's not being completely truthful about things. He's too focused on the upcoming competition and what it could possibly entail. Jemma isn't even sure that she really wants to know. The more she thinks about it, the more she thinks she'll never be able to go through with it.

Blissful ignorance is probably the only thing that gets her into Fitz's car Wednesday night and heading toward the center of town. She can think of only one time she's ever even been inside Coulson's and that was when she and Fitz were trying to kill time while Fitz's dad went to the hardware store. And that was years ago. Even then, Jemma had thought everything was so pointless and frivolous but she could see why some people might be interested in having cute little, kitschy objects around their house.

It's not exactly late but there's no one hanging around town; all the stores are closed, the street lights illuminating empty sidewalks. Like with the second challenge, they park a ways away from their destination and walk in silence. Jemma feels like her body is a livewire, taunt and electric with anxiety and a little bit of excitement. But this feels different, somehow. This isn't just a bunch of idiots doing really stupid things; now they're involving other people and Jemma isn't sure how she feels about that.

But she knows, ultimately, that her own guilt doesn't matter. Because she's already come this far. Jemma knows that she's going to do whatever Tripp tells her she has to and she wonders when she became that type of person.

There's already a decent sized crowd gathered outside of Coulson's even though Jemma and Fitz are a little bit early. Despite, or maybe because of, the craziness at Garrett's Field, there is still a large number of spectators. But Jemma can't help but notice that the number of competitors is even smaller still; the players who ended up in the hospital are out but so are two others, including Maria. Jemma realizes that she never knew whether Maria refused to go over the fence or not until right now. But Jemma tries not to let herself get carried away; the people still competing aren't exactly the type of people that Jemma can imagine herself beating. Grant Ward is the type of guy that typically wins The Game year after year. Melinda May is the only one that Jemma could even imagine giving him a run for his money. The others are formidable in their own ways and she's just…Jemma Simmons.

And then there's Skye, who doesn't look any more imposing than Jemma herself. But Jemma has seen the hardness in her eyes, the feral determination that even Ward would be hard-pressed to match.

Jemma tries to stop thinking about the competition as she joins the rest of the crowd. She doesn't need anymore reasons to psych herself out.

From where she's standing, Jemma can't see Skye but she knows that she's somewhere among the crowd anyway. She knows she isn't supposed to be looking for her fellow competitors or mentally wishing them luck in the upcoming challenge. She should be hoping they all fail miserably so she can continue to advance and ultimately win. Seventy thousand dollars. She needs it. She needs it. But still, Jemma can't help but hope that Skye pulls through once more, that they enter the next round together. The Game still seems to be the only thing that is connecting them and even though Jemma would love for that to change, she's not sure how to make that happen.

Once all the competitors have arrived, Tripp steps forward to address the crowd without further ado. Coulson's is behind him and the store is dim and silent, completely unaware of whatever role it's about to play in this insane summertime ritual.

"Okay so the rules are simple this time. You have to go into the store and take something worth over twenty dollars. It has to be worth more than twenty and no trying to switch price tags." Tripp explains.

Jemma worries her bottom lip, glancing toward the store. Stealing. Great. She's never even taken so much as a pack of gum or a tube of chapstick and now she's got to go looking around for something even more expensive. Fitz shifts nervously beside her but she's grateful that he doesn't protest the challenge. He probably knows he wouldn't get anywhere.

"Also," Tripp continues, "once the store alarm goes off you'll have about three minutes before the police arrive. So I'm going to have to tell everyone who isn't playing to leave." A few people start to grumble and Tripp just shrugs. "Sorry. Judge's orders."

Jemma wonders, for about the hundredth time, who these mysterious judges are and how they come up with these stupid challenges. At least there aren't any angry dogs involved this time but it feels equally dangerous for different reasons.

"It should go without saying that if you are grabbed by the cops you're out of The Game." Tripp adds. "And if you do get caught, don't say a word."

Even though everyone already knows that rule, it still sounds ominous when Tripp says it. There was a story circulating a few years ago about one of the competitors mentioning The Game to their parents; he ended up in the hospital due to the beating he'd received from the mysterious judges.

Tripp starts herding the spectators away and Fitz hesitates, glancing at Jemma. She just gives him what she hopes is a reassuring smile. "It's alright, Fitz." She nods. "I'll find my own way back home."

But still Fitz doesn't move. "Jemma…"

"I'll text you when it's all over." She gives him a quick hug. "I promise."

Assuming, of course, that she's not in the back of a squad car in twenty minutes.

With everyone else gone, it's even eerier and Jemma finally feels like she's doing something really wrong, something she's definitely too smart to be doing. At least with all the other people around, cheering them on and laughing and carrying on, it all seems like fun and games. Now Jemma is seriously reconsidering.

Suddenly Skye is standing beside her and Jemma jumps in surprise when she reaches for her hand, giving it a squeeze before pulling away. Jemma's heart is hammering in her chest for an assuredly different reason now, she thinks. At least her mind is off The Game.

Momentarily, anyway. But then Tripp is smashing the glass on the front door, reaching his hand through to unlock the door and push it open. The alarm is already blaring, seeming almost painfully loud in the quiet around them. As soon as the door is open, Ward and several other competitors immediately go running for the store but Jemma freezes because instead of thinking seventy thousand dollars like she often does, all she can think is three minutes. Three minutes until the cops arrive. Three minutes until she gets arrested for breaking, entering and theft. Then it won't have mattered if she's disqualified from The Game or not because she's not going to have to worry about paying for college anymore.

Jemma feels Skye move beside her, nudging her before making a beeline for the store along with the others. Jemma feels something inside of her click and she stops trying to think, stops trying to let herself panic. Instead she just moves and she's inside, studying all these stupid kitschy things with renewed interest.

Ward pushes past her to grab a quilted, monogrammed purse off the shelf behind her and then he's gone, out the door and running. Jemma envies him because she feels like she can't think fast enough, can't move fast enough. Not with her heart hammering in her ears and the goddamn alarm blaring endlessly.

Jemma grabs a ceramic bulldog without thinking and flips it over. She can't imagine why anyone would pay fifty bucks for this stupid thing but she'll take it. She clutches it to her chest, glancing around. There's a door behind her marked employees only and it would take Jemma longer to get to the front door than it would that one but there's no way of knowing where that door leads to or if there's a way out.

But it quickly becomes a nonissue when the store is filled with flashing red and blue lights. There's no way three minutes could have passed already, it just doesn't seem possible. Then again, it also feels like she's been standing in this store holding the stupid bulldog for three years so Jemma might not be the best judge of time.

Jemma ducks into the backroom but doesn't have time to shut the door all the way before the cops are moving inside, flashlights up and guns out. She crouches down, hugging the stupid bulldog and trying to consider her options. Thankfully there's a window above the desk and filing cabinets. Jemma has no idea how much noise she'll make trying to climb out but hopefully she can be on solid ground before the police make it into the back room.

Jemma turns to move but then she sees Skye, hiding behind a display of greeting cards. There's a flashy, floral printed scarf wrapped around her neck and anxious look on her face as she listens to the footfalls of the police officers. They're only a few feet away from where she is now and Jemma suddenly feels, with absolute certainty, that there's no way they're going to miss her.

Skye glances in her direction and Jemma sees that some of the bravado that's usually in her eyes has been replaced by fear and Jemma feels her chest tighten, making it hard to breath. Jemma points over her shoulder. "There's a window," she mouths out, slowly, deliberately, and Skye nods.

Of course, there's really no easy way for Skye to move from where she is now to the back office. Not without running right by the officers. Jemma glances around and grabs the first thing she can put her hands on; she throws the doorstop as hard as she can into the store and it knocks into a shelf of figurines, sending several of them crashing to the floor.

The cops turn in unison toward the sound and Skye is up and moving, rushing across the store faster than Jemma would have even thought possible. She's by the window faster than Jemma can even blink, dragging over the desk chair and pushing open the windowpane.

Skye turns back to face her. "Come on!" She gestures desperately for Jemma to hurry and Jemma realizes that she's been just standing there, frozen in place all over again.

But Skye's voice and the look on her face spurs Jemma into action and she joins Skye by the window. Skye takes that stupid ceramic bulldog from her arms and Jemma is suddenly boosting herself through the window, unsure of when she even made the move to hoist herself through. It's a bit of a tight fit but she makes it, landing gracelessly on the other side. Jemma groans as she pushes herself to her feet and Skye tosses the dog statue out to her before pulling herself through the window. Of course, Skye makes it look easy. She even lands on her feet.

Jemma follows Skye's lead and takes off running, ignoring the shouting of the police officers, calling for them to stop and return to the scene of the crime. Jemma wonders if anyone actually listens to those ridiculous commands and she feels laughter start bubbling inside her chest and she doesn't know if laughing at her thoughts or the fact that she's running from the police because she just stole something from a store.

Finally they stop running and Jemma slumps against the brick wall of the building they're currently taking shelter behind. She's half panting, half laughing, clutching the dog statute tightly to her chest. "That was insane." She manages as she struggles to catch her breath. "I can't believe I just did that."

Skye sits down beside her, nudging her playfully. "What? You've never run from the cops before?" She teases.

Jemma just scoffs and shakes her head. "This might surprise you, but I don't exactly take part in many bad girl shenanigans."

Skye gives her a faux-shocked look. "You? No! I don't believe it."

Jemma just gives her a playful shove in return, rolling her eyes. Skye laughs and the sound seems to move through Jemma, sizzling her already taunt nerve endings.

"So then, what, exactly made you decide to play The Game?" Skye questions. "Wanted to break that good girl image?"

For a moment, Jemma thinks about telling her everything but the words freeze in her throat and she knows that she won't easily dislodge them, not when she has to go back several months to even begin to answer Skye's question. So she just shrugs. "Well, if I told you that, I'd have to kill you." She teases.

Skye just smirks, arching her eyebrows. But she doesn't press the issue, even though Jemma can tell that she's captured Skye's interest. It's insane to even think about, that she, of all people, would be able to intrigue someone like Skye.

They sit there in silence, both still struggling to return their breathing and heartbeats to normal and Jemma pulls out her phone to text Fitz so he doesn't have a heart attack while he waits to hear from her.

Fitz calls her immediately. "Where are you?" He questions without preamble. His tone makes it obvious that he's been hanging around, ready to swoop in and be the getaway driver if necessary.

That's actually a question that Jemma can't easily answer. It takes her a few minutes of wandering around to figure out where she is and Fitz tells her to stay put and he'll be by to pick her up. Jemma sits down on the sidewalk, setting the ceramic dog down beside her. Once again, Skye joins her and Jemma barely manages to hide her smile. She figures this is probably pathetic in some way, that she's getting this giddy over just sharing the same space with Skye.

Skye pats the head of the dog statue, smirking at Jemma. "Interesting choice."

"I just panicked and grabbed the first thing I could." Jemma admits. "I wasn't thinking practically." She points to the scarf around Skye's neck.

"Well, I got lucky. I can't imagine why anyone would pay thirty dollars for this but I definitely lucked out." Skye tells her with a smile.

There's a pause and the smile slowly fades from Skye's face, her expression becoming serious. "Listen I…thanks." She clears her throat, glancing down at her hands. "For sticking around. To help me. I don't know anyone else who would have stayed."

Jemma just shrugs but she can feel a flush of pleasure spreading across her chest, making her heart quicken. "It was nothing." She mumbles.

"No it wasn't." Skye tells her, finally looking back up at Jemma. "No one else would have done that."

Jemma gives her a shy smile and the way that Skye is looking at her makes Jemma feel like she's struggling to breathe all over again. She suddenly feels like Skye is going to kiss her, that she's about to close the distance between them and press their lips together and a momentary flash of panic spreads through Jemma's body but it's quickly replaced by the realization that she really wants that to happen.

But whether that's what Skye intended to do or not will remain a mystery because Fitz chooses that exact moment to arrive, pulling up beside the curb. He doesn't exactly look surprised to see Skye there but he doesn't look happy about it.

Jemma holds up the dog statute for Fitz to see. "Ta da." She deadpans.

Fitz just shakes his head but he looks relieved, though Jemma doesn't know if it's because she got away with it or because she completed another challenge. "You're turning into a world class criminal, Jemma."

"Hardly." Jemma mutters. She opens the passenger side door and glances over her shoulder at Skye, an unspoken question on her face.

Skye pauses for a moment before getting into the back seat of the car, slamming the door shut behind her. Jemma doesn't even bother to glance at Fitz; she can easily picture the slightly annoyed but resigned expression on his face.

"So," Fitz says as he pulls away from the curb, "where to?"

"Food." Jemma is surprised when the word passes her lips. "I'm starving." It's not until she gives voice to the idea that she realizes that it's true. She's absolutely ravenous all of the sudden, craving the type of food that she never wants ordinarily. Must be the adrenaline and the close brush with the law.

So Fitz heads to a place that's open all night and serves disgustingly greasy food and Jemma is pretty sure that she's never even thought about eating here but now it sounds like the best thing that she can imagine. It seems like she's not the only one who's had the same idea; almost every booth and table in the restaurant is occupied by their classmates, several of them participants in The Game. Everyone is laughing and carrying on, the somber atmosphere from only twenty-five minutes earlier completely gone. It's almost impossible to look at Ward and May and some of the others and remember that they just committed an act of theft twenty minutes before.

Of course, so did Jemma. So she figures there's some merit to that whole throwing stones and glass houses saying.

They manage to find a small booth anyway; it's designed for two but Skye squeezes in beside Jemma anyway and Jemma really doesn't mind. She and Fitz both order far too much food but Skye insists that she isn't hungry and seems content to stir the ice cubes around in her water. But Skye's assurances that she isn't hungry don't stop her from stealing fries off Jemma's plate whenever she thinks that Jemma isn't paying attention. Jemma doesn't mind; she just leaves the fries for Skye to munch on.

Once they finish eating and walk out toward Fitz's car, Jemma suddenly finds herself feeling exhausted and even though it's not even midnight, she still feels like she could fall into bed and sleep for twelve hours straight.

"We could give you a ride home, Skye." Jemma offers and she can feel Fitz glaring at her. "If you'd like."

Skye shrugs and waves the suggestion aside. "I can walk." She tells them. "It's not very far."

Jemma wants to insist but there's something in Skye's face that makes her bite her tongue. Instead, she just gets back into Fitz's car, studying Skye in the review mirror until she can't see her any longer.

"You know," Jemma begins, glancing over at Fitz, "you aren't very nice to her."

Fitz scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Why should I be nice to her?"

Jemma purses her lips and then sighs. "I like her, Fitz." She says softly. It's the first time she's spoken those words out loud, admitted the way that she feels about Skye. It's impossible to ignore those feelings now.

But Fitz just pretends like he doesn't hear her.

\-----------

The following night, after Jemma has already submitted the picture of herself and her stolen item to the mysterious judges, she puts the dog statue into her backpack and rides her bike back into town. It's not exactly a short ride but there's something about being out so late, after everyone else is asleep and there's nothing around her but the sounds of the crickets and the stars overhead, that makes it not so bad.

When Jemma goes to place the ceramic dog outside the door of Coulson's, she's surprised to see that someone has already tied a very vibrant, floral patterned scarf around the door handle.

\---------

A few days have passed since the third challenge and Jemma finds herself slipping back into that weird, holding pattern stage. It's not that she's looking forward to what will happen next in The Game because she's actually, honestly terrified of what she'll have to do next. It's just that she's halfway through now, she's made it through three challenges. And she wants to make it through four.

Jemma knows with each passing challenge, her chances of winning continue to go up. The idea of winning, of getting the money and getting the hell out of here, is slowly starting to take root in her mind, refusing to let itself be shaken away easily. Jemma is still trying to be practical; she knows it's dangerous to stop hoping too much and let herself get carried away. But it's getting closer, she can almost taste it. She wants it.

And when Jemma walks into Fitz's bedroom one morning and sees cardboard boxes stacked up in one corner, she remembers exactly what she wants and what will happen if she doesn't win.

Fitz follows her line of sight and almost looks guilty. "Sorry." He mutters. "I…my mum thought it was a good idea to start getting stuff together…"

But Jemma just nods and forces a smile. "It's fine, Fitz." She mutters. "It makes sense."

Because summer is steadily approaching its end. And whether Jemma wins The Game or not, Fitz will still be leaving. He'll be going to Stanford and she might be staying behind.

Jemma sits down on the edge of his bed, suddenly heavy with the reality of the situation. The Game is the only chance that she has. How ridiculous is that? Fitz sits down beside her and puts his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a half-hug.

"We'll figure it out, Jem." Fitz assures her.

Jemma nods. They keep saying this but it hasn't been true yet and summer is halfway over. She can't even imagine the things she'd have to do to earn enough money for tuition; The Game would be a breeze compared to some of the things she can envision.

"You could win." Fitz points out, as though reading her mind. "You could. You're getting close now."

Jemma can hear the desperation in his voice, mirroring the way that she feels whenever she thinks about what's going to come next. She nods again and looks up at her friend. Fitz gives her a forced smile. "I don't want to go without you, Jem."

"I could win." Jemma means for the words to be reassuring and full of conviction but they just sound uncertain and breathless with possibility.

I could win, Jemma thinks again. I could.

This the thought that takes over her mind most nights when she's trying to sleep, when she finds herself laying in bed and staring up at the ceiling. She could win, the likelihood is growing larger all the time.

But Jemma also finds herself thinking about Skye and how if she wins then Skye will have to lose. She knows that it shouldn't matter, it shouldn't bother her. But it does.

\------------

Rumors of the beginnings of the individual trials start to circulate and Jemma finds that she has a whole new set of anxieties to occupy herself with. It's only a matter of time before it's her turn and she'll have to compete in a task alone, in something that is tailored specifically to the things that she's afraid of. At least, that's what the rumors say anyway. Jemma wonders how anyone could know exactly what scares her but she still finds herself feeling anxious and worried, wondering when it'll be her turn and what she'll have to do.

If the rumors are to be believed, several of the competitors have already been put through their challenges. Ward apparently passed his with flying colors while Kate and Tony both failed their tasks. Jemma wonders what could be so horrible that they couldn't pass. But she also thinks two down.

They come to get her in the middle of the night. Jemma is so surprised, so seized by fear, that she can't even cry out when she feels someone grab her shoulders, jerking her upright. Her eyes fly open but her vision quickly goes dark, obscured by the thick, black fabric that is being tied around her head.

Jemma opens her mouth to shout for help, to hope that her mother is still aware enough to hear her panic, but someone claps a hand over her mouth. "Don't scream." It takes Jemma a second to recognize the voice in her ear. It's Tripp. "It's all part of The Game."

Somehow that doesn't make Jemma feel all that reassured but she lets them pull her out of bed anyway. Someone is grasping her upper arm tightly, like she's going to try and run and Jemma turns her head, trying to figure out how many people are in the room with her. But it's impossible to see anything. She can't help but blush at the thought of Tripp and the others (the judges, she thinks) seeing her dressed in nothing but a tank top and the shorts she used to wear in gym class. It's too hot to wear much of anything but if she had known she was going to be kidnapped tonight she would have dressed for the occasion.

Tripp collects her phone and her keys and he's the only one that talks to her as they lead her out of the house. Jemma's heart is hammering in her ears as she walks the familiar path down the hallway toward the front door. The blindfold and the stranger holding her tightly are making it hard for her to remain composed and keep her cool. It makes everything seem so much worse.

They take her outside and the driveway is rough against her bare feet. Someone forces her hands behind her back and Jemma tenses when she feels cold metal encircle her wrists. She's being handcuffed. Why are they handcuffing her?

"Where are we going?" Jemma questions as they put her in the backseat of a car, hearing the scared and panicky edge in her voice. "What do I have to do?"

"You'll find out soon enough." Tripp tells her from the front seat of the car.

Jemma wishes that she could see something, anything at all. But the blindfold is too thick and tied too tightly. She tries to tell herself that she's safe, tries not to let the feelings of panic completely take over because if that happens she knows she won't be able to think straight, she won't succeed. But it's hard to put her safety in the hands of the people who have already put her through so much.

They only drive for about ten minutes, though it feels like a lifetime for Jemma. No one speaks; the only sound Jemma can hear is the pounding of her heart and her own ragged breathing.

When they pull her out of the car, the smell of chlorine hits her noise and Jemma instantly tenses. There's no mistaking where they are now. Jemma tries to twist away from the person holding her arm, feeling the panic harder to squash down now.

"No." Jemma protests as they lead her through the front gate, trying to plant her heels on the rough ground. "You can't do this."

"Don't panic." Tripp says and his voice is oddly soft and comforting, like he genuinely wants to reassure her. "You'll be fine."

Jemma turns her head in what she judges to be his direction. "Please." She says softly. But she doesn't even know if she's talking to anyone or just speaking to empty air.

"You have forty seconds." Tripp tells her and he takes one of her hands in his, pressing something small and cool into her palm. He closes her fingers around the object. "Then we'll get you out."

"Wait-" But Jemma doesn't get a chance to finish her sentence because suddenly she's being shoved forward and she hits the water.

All she can think about is being here, at the community pool, with Fitz and both their families when she was ten years old. She wasn't a strong swimmer, mostly because she hated getting wet and submerging herself in the water. She was content to just sit on the edge and let her legs dangle while Fitz swam around her and splashed her. Someone had pushed her in on accident, one of the bigger kids who was running around and roughhousing despite the lifeguard's warnings. Jemma knows that she wasn't under for long but in her surprise and panic, she hadn't been able to do anything but let herself sink. She inhaled water without thinking and had been so certain, so overwhelming sure at ten years old that she was going to die.

Surely it had only been seconds before her father had pulled her out and laid her out on the warm sidewalk but it had felt like forever. And it had been like someone flipped a switch in her brain because she had never set foot near a pool again.

Until now.

Jemma feels like she can't think. It's like a wall of blackness in her brain and she can't push through it. She can't swim, she can't move; her pulls against the cuffs but it's useless. All the thrashing and panic is making her useless. She's going to drown, she's going to drown here in this stupid community pool with her hands cuffed behind her back and a blindfold on, looking like an idiot who deserved to drown.

Suddenly Jemma thinks about her father, the way it had felt to see him swimming toward her that day that now seems so horribly long ago. The relief that had coursed through her body, the certainty that she wasn't going to die, that she was going to be okay because her dad would save her. Only now her dad is gone and it's only her.

Jemma tightens her fingers around the object in her palm and realizes that it's a key. The key to the cuffs around her wrists. Jemma stops, she tries to clear all other thoughts from her mind except for the one that tells her that she can do this, she just has to work the key into the lock and then she'll be free.

There's one, horrifying second where Jemma almost drops the key. She can feel it slipping from her grasp and knows that if it falls, that's it. But she manages to twist her palm so she can catch it again, holding it tightly between her fingers. When the key finally gets into the lock, Jemma wants to cry in relief. She twists and the cuff comes loose and Jemma swims toward the surface.

Her lungs feel like they're on fire by the time her head is finally above the water and she exhales deeply, coughing and spitting water. Jemma yanks the blindfold off, whipping her head around, looking for the judges. She hopes they're pleased with her performance.

But the only person still there is Tripp. He's smiling at her and she wants to punch him in the face. "Congratulations." He tells her. "You passed. Thirty-three seconds."

Jemma kicks over to the edge of the pool and drags herself out, glaring at Tripp. "Great." She mumbles. She unlocks the other cuff from her wrist and tosses the key and the handcuffs in Tripp's direction.

The car is still waiting in the parking lot but Jemma can't see who is waiting inside. Tripp verifies once more that she's alright before getting into the car himself and suddenly Jemma is alone with nothing more than her house keys and phone, soaking wet in her ridiculous shorts and tank top with a picture of an atom across the front.

Jemma is shivering even though it's still ridiculously hot; her teeth are chattering and she wants to burst into tears right there in the empty parking lot. Because she could have drowned. Because her father is gone. Because this is a mess that she's gotten herself into.

Instead, she just looks at her phone and her finger hovers over Fitz's name in her contacts. But she doesn't call him. Instead, Jemma scrolls through her address book until she reaches Skye's name and taps her screen without hesitation.

Skye answers on the second ring. "Jemma? Is everything okay?" She sounds groggy and confused and Jemma feels guilty for waking her.

But not guilty enough to tell Skye to go back to sleep. "Can you meet me somewhere?" Jemma questions without preamble. "That place we went to after the second challenge."

Skye hesitates but only for a second. "Yes."

Jemma hangs up because there isn't anything more to say, not right now. She just starts walking, grateful that there's no one else around to see her right now. It's not exactly a short walk but Jemma feels like she can easily run the whole way and not be the least bit tired.

Skye is waiting for her outside. Her eyes get wide when she takes in Jemma's appearance, her brow creasing with concern. "Jemma, what happened-"

Jemma just steps forward, taking Skye's face in her hands and kissing her. She's tired of hoping that will happen. She's going to make sure that it does.

There's no hesitation in Skye's touch, no tension that has to ease from her body, no surprise to overcome. She just presses her lips to Jemma's, putting her hands on Jemma's hips and pulling her closer. Jemma feels hot and dizzy and lightheaded. This is a whole different kind of drowning.

When Skye moves away, Jemma is strangely pleased to see that she's breathing heavily. "I…not that I'm complaining but I still feel like there's a lot of explaining that needs to be done."

They go inside the shed and the lamps are already on and burning brightly, chasing away the darkness. Jemma's eyes fall to the blankets spread out on the ground, arranged in a way that doesn't look careless or casual. Skye snatches one of the blankets up before Jemma can really think too much about it and drapes it over Jemma's shoulders. She wraps it around herself even though it's too hot in this building for that; it makes her feel a little less exposed.

Jemma sits down beside Skye on one of the other blankets and she really wants to kiss her again. She wants to do nothing but kiss her, actually. But Jemma feels like that can wait.

Especially because Skye is looking at her expectantly, worry still coloring her features.

"My individual challenge was tonight." Jemma tells Skye, brushing her wet hair away from her. "They handcuffed me and threw me into a pool."

Skye's eyes grow wide. "What the fuck?" She sounds angry more than surprised and she shakes her head in disgust. "That's crossing a line."

Jemma can't disagree. But she feels a strange sense of pride when she says, "I passed."

Skye smiles at her and lets out a little laugh. "Of course you did." She doesn't seem at all surprised by this fact.

Jemma can't help herself. She leans closer to Skye, kissing her again, slipping her fingers through Skye's hair and pressing their bodies flush together. Jemma feels Skye smiling against her lips and between the near drowning and this exact moment, everything feels so surreal that Jemma worries that she might be dreaming.

But Skye's hands feel real against her back and sides, heavy with possibility. And if this is a dream, Jemma will be really, really pissed when she wakes up.

"I wasn't even sure that you liked me." Skye admits when they finally separate once more and there's a hint of self-consciousness in her tone, like the idea of someone not liking her wasn't much of a stretch. "You're a hard person to read, Jemma Simmons." She teases.

Jemma just laughs and lays back on the blanket, staring up at the holes in the ceiling. "That's definitely something I've never heard before." She mutters.

Skye smiles at her before laying down on her side beside Jemma, curling toward her but not quite touching. Jemma is almost relieved for the reprieve; her body already feels like it's smoldering. One more touch from Skye might set her completely aflame.

"My father died." Jemma blurts out and it's hard to tell who is more surprised by the abrupt change in the conversation or the words that have passed Jemma's lips. Jemma continues to stare straight ahead but she can feel Skye's eyes on her anyway. "Six months ago."

Skye doesn't say anything. She doesn't blurt out the typical "I'm sorry" that Jemma has come to expect from everyone the second the words leave her mouth. She doesn't offer a pitying look or suddenly seem uncomfortable, like she doesn't know how to deal with this second hand grief. She just sighs. "That sucks."

Jemma barks out a laugh and is surprised by the sound. She's pretty sure she's never laughed at the idea of her father's death before. "Yeah." She says simply. "It really does."

"How did he die?" Skye questions and when Jemma looks at her, she can see concern and subtle sympathy in her eyes. She looks softer than Jemma has ever seen her before, the steeliness in her eyes momentarily replaced by concern.

"A car accident." Jemma answers. "He was coming back from dinner with my mum and then," she snaps her fingers, "it was over."

"But your mom…?" Skye trails off, almost as though she's afraid to bring up what could possibly be another tough subject.

Jemma shrugs. "She was fine. Barely a scratch." It hadn't made any sense but very little about that night and everything that's come after makes sense to Jemma.

Skye reaches for her hand and laces their fingers together and Jemma wonders how she knew that would say more than trite platitudes ever could.

"It was just…unexpected." Jemma hates using that word because it's pretty obvious. Of course it was unexpected; he died coming home from a dinner on a Wednesday night. "He'd just started a business and our finances were tied up in the company and when the business went under…everything was gone. All my money for college…" Jemma just closes her eyes, suddenly feeling impossibly tired. Like the very act of keeping her eyes open is too much.

Jemma always feels like a selfish brat when she mentions the loss of her college fund. There seem to be so many other important things to focus on. But for Jemma, it boils down to something far simpler: she'd lost everything. Her father, her family, her foundation and then her future.

Jemma opens her eyes again so she can look at Skye. "That's why I'm playing The Game."

"For college." Skye states simply and a resigned sort of understanding fills her eyes.

"Yes." Jemma nods. "Stanford. Fitz and I have been talking about going there since we were children. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be about winning this stupid game. And even that won't get me through more than a year. But that doesn't even matter. Just getting there, that's what matters." Jemma is well aware that she's rambling now but she feels like she can't stop herself and Skye doesn't seem to mind, her eyes intently focused on Jemma.

"If I can just make it that first year…I can find a cheap apartment with Fitz, get a job. Or two. Crappy jobs, crappy apartment, it doesn't matter. If I can just get there…" Jemma sighs and closes her eyes once more.

"Yeah." Skye says softy and there's a strange sort of wistful yearning in her tone that Jemma can't quite place. "That sounds nice."

Jemma opens her eyes and gives Skye a skeptical look. "Really?" She smirks. She wouldn't exactly call it nice. She would call it altering her vision of the future; she would call it lowering her expectations.

But Skye just nods. "Your own place, living with someone who cares about you. Working and college and…just doing something that matters." She shrugs and waves her hand dismissively, suddenly seeming almost shy. "Or whatever."

Again, Jemma feels the overwhelming urge to ask Skye why she's playing The Game. She wants to ask why they're laying in a falling down shed in the middle of the night. She wants to ask about all those secrets that Skye prefers to keep close to her heart. But she doesn't ask, mostly because she feels like Skye might not tell her even if she did.

They lay in silence for a while instead, Jemma still holding Skye's hand tightly in her own. "Thanks." Jemma finally says, her voice quiet. "For coming to meet me tonight."

Skye smiles at her. "I didn't exactly need a lot of convincing." She points out. "Why did you call me? Why not Fitz? You guys seem pretty tight."

Jemma just shrugs. "I don't know." But she feels like the words are a lie. What she means is I don't know if I could put it into words.

But Skye seems to understand anyway. She leans closer, resting her hand gently against Jemma's cheek. Jemma closes her eyes, moving into her touch. Skye's lips brush softly over hers, a fleeting caress. Jemma wants to pull Skye closer to her, kiss her harder and longer, to drown in her all over again. But this is nice too, she thinks, just being here like this with things soft and quiet and gentle.

tbc.


	5. Chapter Five

When Jemma wakes up, she's hot and sweaty and vaguely uncomfortable. Her head hurts, probably from resting against something that is most definitely not as comfortable as her pillow. In fact, her whole body is resting on something that is most definitely not her bed and her arm has that uncomfortable, pins-and-needles feelings that limbs get whenever they fall asleep. When she opens her eyes, she squints against the brightness and finds herself staring up at a roof of a building that should have probably been condemned a long time ago.

It's not hard for Jemma to remember exactly where she is and why. The pool and the kiss...it all comes flooding back. Jemma feels her body flush and her heart skip a few beats when she remembers the kisses. Definitely the highlight of the night. Jemma isn't sure where waking up on the floor of an old barn ranks on the list of things she's done recently but it seems like a decent trade off since she was able to spend her time with Skye.

Skye. Whose head is currently pillowed on Jemma's arm, which explains the pins-and-needles feeling. Skye is still sleeping soundly despite the sun streaming through the holes in the ceiling and the fact that they're on the ground on only a thin blanket.

Jemma smiles to herself, suddenly feeling euphoric despite her circumstances. She kissed Skye. And Skye kissed her. And she's going to be able to do it again. What could possibly be wrong in this scenario?

Of course, there is the fact that she's been away from home since two in the morning and God only knows what time it is now. This is definitely not good. Her mother is going to kill her.

Jemma shifts, trying to figure out how to move away from Skye without waking her but the second she moves, Skye jerks upright, seeming to shed the vestiges of sleep so quickly that it's like she was never really sleeping at all. Her eyes narrow and her body tenses but as soon as she sees Jemma, Skye relaxes and offers her a sheepish smile. "Morning."

"Good morning, Skye." Jemma says, suddenly feeling acutely aware of what she must look like. Actually, she'd rather not know, if she's being honest. But Skye doesn't seem to mind her surely disastrous appearance. "This is a little unexpected. I didn't mean to fall asleep last night."

Skye shrugs. "Well, you had a pretty eventful night so I won't hold it against you." She assures Jemma with a wink.

Jemma smiles, feeling her cheeks flush. She wants to pull Skye to her and kiss her. She wants to do that as often as possible. However…first things first… "Well, I can only hope my mum feels the same way." She mutters.

Skye grimaces sympathetically. "Right. Parents."

Jemma stands up and her body protests this decision wholeheartedly. She feels like she's been put through the wringer and even though she just woke up, she finds herself fantasizing about getting home and crawling back into bed.

Jemma finds her phone and her keys and checks the time. It's a little after nine, which is a bit of a surprise because she feels like it should be a lot later. But maybe this means that her absence won't be noticed. Jemma can only hope.

Despite Jemma's (rather feeble) protests, Skye walks with her the entire way to her house. Jemma feels bad for making Skye go out of her way, especially when her own presence is surely being missed somewhere else, but she doesn't really mind the excuse to spend extra time with Skye.

When they get to her house, Jemma finds herself suddenly feeling timid, unsure of how to move forward after the events of last night. She ducks her head, wringing her hands. "Thanks again for last night." She winces, hating the overly formal tone in her voice.

Skye lowers her own head so she can press her lips against Jemma's and Jemma returns the kiss ardently. It suddenly seems to slip her mind that she's standing on the street outside of her house; all that really matters is being able to kiss Skye.

When Jemma finally moves away, she feels lightheaded and breathless and she's certain the smile on her face is dazed and stupid. "I should…I should probably…" She takes a step back, gesturing toward the house, and bumps right into the mailbox.

Skye laughs but not unkindly and just nods. "Okay. I'll see you later?"

Jemma is surprised by the question in her voice, the self-doubt that has slipped back into her tone. Like she could ever doubt that anyone would want to be around her. Jemma nods eagerly and then feels herself flush with embarrassment. "Yes." She tries to play it cool but it's probably too late for that. "We shall see each other later."

Skye just smirks and Jemma forces herself to turn around and head up the driveway to the front door. It seems like she's been gone for years instead of just hours. She definitely feels like everything has changed.

Jemma is still wearing that stupid grin on her face when she opens the front door and finds her mother sitting on the couch. It's hard to tell who is more surprised, though Jemma thinks that Katherine might win because of the comical way that her eyes widen when she sees her daughter step through the front door.

Once again, Jemma is painfully aware of how she has to look: rumpled pajamas, hair that was wet when she fell asleep on it last night, kiss-bruised lips. It's obvious that she hasn't been home; in fact, Jemma is pretty sure this constitutes as her first ever walk-of-shame, though with some extenuating circumstances.

Katherine just continues to look at her and Jemma braces herself for the enraged lecture that is no doubt taking form right now. But Katherine just says, "The realtor is bringing someone by in forty-five minutes."

Jemma just looks at her mother with her dull eyes and her permanently tired appearance. "Okay." She says before moving down the hall toward the bathroom, desperate for a shower. Maybe then she'll have the energy to be disappointed in her mother's lack of reaction. Maybe.

\---------

Jemma goes to Fitz's, using the realtor's imminent arrival as an excuse but the truth is that she doesn't feel like sitting at home all day. Her mind is too busy for that and the house feels too small now.

Fitz seems just as enraged as Skye was after Jemma finishes telling him about the challenge from the night before. She just lets him go on his rant, smiling at his indignation. "You're a good friend, Fitz." Jemma tells him sincerely when he finally finishes.

And it's true, she's been able to count on Fitz since she was in the first grade. So she doesn't know why she doesn't tell him about Skye and what happened after her challenge was complete. Instead, Jemma just sits next to Fitz on the couch while they watch a Doctor Who marathon on BBC America and she eventually falls asleep with her head on his shoulder, comforted by the odd feeling that everything is going to be all right after all.

\---------

It's a little bit embarrassing to admit, but Jemma is legitimately disappointed when the next three days pass without more than a handful of texts from Skye. It's not like this is exactly out of the ordinary, given the way that they've been passing the summer so far. But things feel different now. Things are different now. Jemma doesn't think it's strange to want to spend more time around Skye and see what might happen. She wants to get to know Skye, really get to know her. Skye is like the long-overdue exhale of a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

But, for whatever reason, the days pass without much word from Skye or about The Game. The latter isn't all that disappointing considering the growing trepidation that Jemma feels whenever she thinks about the next challenge.

Four nights after Jemma's swim in the community pool, she wakes to the sound of something knocking against her window. At first, she dismisses the sound as something belonging to a lingering dream or perhaps just a branch rattling against the glass but it's persistent and she realizes that she's wide awake and can't possibly be dreaming.

Jemma sits up in bed, turning to face her window. And there's Skye, somehow managing to balance on the trellis (which should have been torn down ages ago honestly) as she taps on the windowpane. Jemma is too surprised to be startled and it takes her a moment to compute everything that's happening.

But finally her brain clicks and Jemma hops out of bed, hurrying to open the window before the trellis breaks and sends Skye crashing back down to Earth. Skye slips through the window with the same ease that she displayed before and Jemma shuts the window back behind her.

"Skye," she says softly, "what are you doing here?"

Jemma can't quite figure out if she minds or not. Though, if she's being honest…she doesn't mind.

Skye looks at her apologetically. "Sorry." She seems sincere and Jemma feels bad that that was the first thing she asked. "Just had my own visit from Tripp and the judges."

And that's when Jemma notices that Skye's cheeks and clothes are streaked with dirt in some places and she's trembling. She's shivering so much that Jemma feels like it should be mid-winter instead of the dead middle of summer.

Jemma puts her arms around Skye and Skye folds against her instantly, pressing her face to the hollow of Jemma's neck. Jemma rubs her back and presses her lips to Skye's temple and that seems to relax Skye enough to get her to stop shaking. Jemma feels a hint of disappointment when Skye finally steps out of the embrace. Sure she wishes that the circumstances were better but she definitely didn't mind having Skye so close, to feel her breath tickling her skin.

"Are you all right?" Jemma questions gently, gesturing for Skye to sit down on the edge of the bed.

Skye does so, nodding sheepishly. "Yeah. I'm fine now." She shrugs. "I don't exactly do well with small spaces. 'Childhood trauma.'" She puts air quotes around the last two words, a smirk on her face. But Skye doesn't elaborate, on either the challenge or the childhood trauma, and Jemma doesn't want to press the issue.

"Well, it's good you came here, then." Jemma tells her. "Plenty of space." She gestures to her large bedroom, one of the perks of being an only child.

"Plus the soft, comfy bed." Skye remarks, pressing her palms against the mattress. She pauses and looks up at Jemma somewhat guiltily. "That wasn't a proposition, by the way…" She mumbles.

Jemma laughs and shakes her head. "Now I see that my first impression of you was spot on." She teases.

Skye arches an eyebrow, looking intrigued. "And just what was your first impression of me?"

Jemma hopes Skye doesn't notice the sudden color in her cheeks. She's not sure that Skye needs to hear about how breathtakingly beautiful she found her. "That you were wild and dangerous and wicked." She says and the tone of her words makes it clear that she's still teasing Skye, though there's some truth to her words.

Skye laughs and looks surprised. "Wicked, huh?" She smirks. "That's a big one to live up to."

Jemma's mouth goes dry and she realizes that she has a girl in her bedroom past midnight. On her bed. The possibilities are suddenly tantalizing and are as frightening as they are exciting.

Jemma smiles as Skye and takes a step back. "I'm going to grab a glass of water. Can I get you anything?" It's a random excuse but she needs the chance to clear her head and she knows she can't do that around Skye.

Skye just nods at her and smiles and when Jemma walks past her, Skye takes her hand and kisses her palm gently and that soft, fleeting touching is enough to suddenly put Jemma at ease and banish her jitters. But she still heads to the kitchen, just because it would look strange if she didn't. Having Skye in her bedroom doesn't have to mean anything more than just having Skye in her bedroom. And Jemma realizes that what she wants more than anything is just to be with Skye and to have her close.

Jemma makes two glasses of ice water and heads back down the hallway, creeping quietly past her mother's bedroom. She doubts that the sound of her footsteps would be enough to wake Katherine but better safe than sorry.

When Jemma gets back into the bedroom, she's surprised to see that Skye has somehow managed to fall asleep in the short amount of time that she's been gone. Jemma smiles and shakes her head, setting the water glasses on the top of her dresser. Skye looks peaceful and childlike somehow and there's a hint of smile on her lips, like being sprawled out on Jemma's bed is heavenly.

Jemma gets one of the quilts out of her closet and drapes it over Skye since she didn't bother to tuck herself beneath the covers. Then she climbs into bed beside the girl, pulling the blankets around herself. There's plenty of room for the both of them and Jemma has the feeling that Skye wouldn't be opposed to sharing the space anyway.

Even though Jemma hasn't shared her bed with anyone since she was in elementary school, it's not strange having Skye there sleeping beside her. She doesn't feel anxious or nervous or worried about doing something stupid. It's oddly comforting having Skye there and Jemma slips back to sleep easily.

In the morning, Jemma wakes before Skye but she can't bring herself to rouse the other girl. Skye still has that serenely peaceful look on her face, like she's so deeply asleep that she might never wake up again. They're close but not touching, so Jemma is able to slip out of bed without moving Skye and Jemma grabs a change of clothes and ducks into the bathroom. She's surprised to find that her mother's bedroom is empty and that there's no sign of Katherine anywhere else in the house. Her mother hasn't made a habit of venturing out into the real world recently but occasionally she gets the urge; she'll go around applying for jobs or looking for apartments to rent and Jemma finds herself eager and excited at the idea of her old mother returning to her. But it never pans out.

Right now, Jemma is most definitely not complaining. Without Katherine around, there's no need to rush Skye out of her bed or out of the house. Jemma smiles to herself as she starts snooping around the fridge and pantry, looking for something suitable for breakfast.

Jemma is in the middle of scrambling eggs when she hears footsteps coming down the hallway and glances over her shoulder to see Skye standing in the doorway. "Hey." She says and her voice is still thick with sleep. "Totally didn't mean to just crash last night."

Jemma smirks. "I won't hold it against you." She teases. "Eggs?" She gestures toward the skillet with the spatula in her hands.

Skye nods and makes herself useful by putting a few slices of bread into the toaster and getting out plates and silverware. They sit next to each other at the kitchen table and Skye wolfs down her food like it's been ages since she's eaten and Jemma feels a tug in her chest, that desire to know everything about Skye. Especially the parts of her that she is so desperately hiding.

After they've finished eating, Skye helps her with the dishes and Jemma finds herself feeling ordinary and comfortable in her own house for the first time in months. It's odd for her to feel that way standing next to someone she never would have thought belonged there. But Jemma isn't going to question it.

"So," Jemma starts as she dries her hands on the dish towel, "I suppose you have to get home. Someone will surely be missing you by now."

Skye arches an eyebrow. "Trying to get rid of me?"

"No! Of course not!" Jemma quickly shakes her head, looking panicked. Then she sees the grin on Skye's face and feels like an idiot. "I…would never."

Skye gives her a skeptical look, but the impact is tempered by the mischievous glint in her eyes. "Are you sure? Because it kinda sounded like you were kicking me out. I mean, I can go…" She gestures toward the front door.

Jemma just shakes her head, reaching for Skye's hand. "You can stay as long as you want."

And yes, it's strange to think about Skye actually wanting to stay.

But for whatever reason, she does.

They spend the whole day together and Jemma feels like they do everything and absolutely nothing at all. Jemma is certain that she's never been happier wasting her day away. Being with Skye like this is something completely different, it's the transition from what could be to what suddenly is. She feels comfortable with Skye, like being with her is perfectly normal. Expected. Inevitable, even. Jemma just wishes that it hadn't taken until now for her to start trying to fit Skye into her life.

But, despite the ease that Jemma feels, there are still certain parts of their conversations that remain untouched and ignored. Things that Jemma feels like she isn't allowed to ask, things that Skye doesn't want her to know.

Jemma tries not to talk it personally. She tries to reassure herself with the thought that when Skye is ready to talk to her, she will. And, for now, it's enough to just sit beside Skye on the couch, their bodies tucked together and her head on Skye's shoulder.

Jemma thinks if she could pass each day just like this, just might not mind so much.

When her mother finally returns home, she looks shocked to see someone in the house who isn't Fitz. Jemma introduces them and they make polite conversation for a few minutes before Katherine mutters something about going to lay down for a while and Skye finally seems to have decided that it's time for her to head home. Jemma tries to fight down the stab of disappointment she feels at her words.

"I could walk you home." Jemma offers. "Return the favor, for once."

Skye just smiles and shakes her head. "Nah, you don't have to do that." She kisses Jemma goodbye before Jemma can even think to protest.

Jemma feels that twinge of disappointment all over again as she watches Skye disappear down the driveway, her lips still tingling from Skye's touch. She certainly hopes it's not going to be another four days before Skye turns up again.

\---------

"You look different." Fitz remarks when he and Jemma see one another the following day.

Jemma looks at him doubtfully while Fitz continues to study her curiously, pursing his lips in thought. It's like he's scrutinizing a specimen under the microscope in biology class and is surprised to find something there he didn't intend.

"What are you talking about?" Jemma questions, rolling her eyes at her friend. "I look the same as I always have."

But Fitz just shakes his head. "There's something different about you." He says decisively.

Jemma just rolls her eyes again, shaking her head. "Fitz, don't be ridiculous." She does feel different, but the primary reason for that would require a lot of explaining. And, for whatever reason, Jemma still isn't ready to tell Fitz what's happened between Skye and herself.

For now, she'd rather just keep the delicious secret to herself and carry on as though this summer will never end and nothing will ever change.

\---------

Jemma sees Skye three more times before the afternoon that Skye shows up bearing news of the upcoming challenge. Each time she's seen Skye has been another day to add to the list of moments that she wishes could just go on endlessly forever. But Jemma can tell that something is different when she sees Skye next. It's not just the change in location that throws her for a loop; normally, Skye comes to her, showing up unexpectedly and unannounced, a mischievous smile on her face and a sparkle in her eyes. Jemma definitely didn't expect to see her in the grocery store and Skye looks equally surprised to see her; Jemma suddenly doesn't mind accompanying Fitz on the errands that he's been running for his mother.

Skye smiles at her from across the store, but there's a seriousness to her gaze, a heaviness that Jemma immediately knows has to do with The Game. They haven't spoken about The Game or the upcoming challenges since the next that Skye crawled through her bedroom window. There's nothing to be gained from talking about it because there's nothing that can be said that will change the reality of the situation. There can only be one winner; assuming they both make it to the final challenge, only one of them will be walking away with the money.

Assuming, of course, that they win at all.

Skye comes over to join them while Fitz is studying the apple display with unnecessarily concentration. "Hey." Skye says and she doesn't lean in to kiss Jemma or give any sort of indication that they've fallen asleep in the same bed or spent an innumerable amount of time twined together. For some reason, Jemma is grateful. Even though she immediately longs to be close to Skye.

Fitz looks up from the apples, surprised to find her standing there. "Oh. You." He mutters before going back to the fruit, checking each apple for bruises and deformities before putting it in his basket.

"Hi." Jemma smiles shyly. She doesn't know what to say after that because everything seems either overly formal or too comfortable so she just doesn't say anything at all. Which doesn't seem like the best choice either.

Thankfully Skye steps in to fill the silence. "Have you heard yet?" She questions, stepping closer to Jemma and lowering her voice. "The next challenge?"

This manages to catch Fitz's attention as well and his eyes flick from Skye to Jemma and back again. "When…when is it?" He questions, his voice tight from the strain of trying to sound casual and failing.

"Tomorrow night." Skye answers, even though Fitz isn't playing and therefore isn't entitled to that information. But she seems to understand that the rules don't exactly apply to Fitz, just like Jemma does. "Eleven o'clock."

Jemma catalogues the information with a nod. "Where?"

Skye hesitates and then says, "The Road" and there's something about her tone that immediately sets that particular road apart from all the others in town.

The Road is what everyone has been calling SR-72 since as long as Jemma can remember. And probably long before that too, if she's being honest. It's the main road in and out of town and is constantly traveled by semis and tracker trailers and people passing through who rarely ever stop. There's not much out that way except for the road and a little gas station. Hardly inviting. Jemma hopes that her first suspicions about the task at hand prove to be false. She'll be finding out soon enough, it seems.

"Lovely." Jemma mumbles and tries not to let her mind run away from her. The only thing she needs to focus on is being there on time tomorrow night. She doesn't need to indulge in any thoughts that might make her too afraid to show up.

Skye just nods and gives her a sympathetic half-smile. "Yeah." She shrugs. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow night, then."

Jemma just nods, even though there's a part of her that wants to beg Skye not to leave, to stay with her and Fitz and while the rest of the day away. Fitz's parents have gotten it into their heads that they need to host as many "family nights" as possible since Fitz's departure is growing closer with each day. Jemma can't think of anything more perfect than enjoying a summer evening cookout with her best friend and her…Skye. Of course, it's not exactly like she can suggest such an evening so she remains silent.

Skye glances around before reaching for one of the apples in Fitz's basket and slipping it into the bag over her shoulder. She winks at Jemma before she turns to go.

"Hey!" Fitz protests, looking shocked by the events he's just witnessed. "You can't-"

Jemma just elbows him roughly, cutting him off before he attracts attention. He rubs his side and gives her his wounded puppy dog look but she glares at him and considers the argument successfully won. Fitz just huffs and while he doesn't look pleased with her, Jemma figures that he'll get over it.

Especially because tomorrow night's challenge might end with her as road kill.

Of course, Jemma really hopes that she's wrong. She hopes that she's thinking about the worst case scenario and letting her imagination run wild. Unfortunately, it quickly turns out that her fears were well founded.

There's honestly only one thing that tonight's challenge could possibly involve. There's nothing around for miles aside from the road and the little gas station, which doesn't even look like it still functions. There are eight lanes of black top, split in half by a small median with a metal guardrail that looks like it's definitely seen better days. Jemma stands a ways back from the road, gathering with the other competitors and the spectators. The air is filled with a nervous energy but the tension has mingled with excitement and several people are chattering nervously and excitedly and Jemma hears the words "Frogger" and "road kill" being tossed around by the people who aren't about to participate in the challenge. Clearly she isn't the only one who's been able to figure the game out long before it actually started.

Fitz is tense beside her, glowering at the ground beneath his feet. Jemma can tell that he really wants to say something but he's wisely keeping his comments to himself. Before, he seemed nervous that Jemma was participating. Now Fitz just seems angry. Jemma just wrings her hands and lets him glower, even though she wouldn't mind some reassurances that everything would be okay.

Jemma glances around, studying the gathering crowd of people. There are only twelve contestants left, as far as she can tell. Eleven people that she has to be better than. And then the money is hers. It seems so simple but Jemma knows that it's definitely not. Because Ward doesn't look the least bit intimidated by the trucks whizzing by; May doesn't have much of an expression at all; Miles is laughing at something one of his friends said. Very few of the other competitors look as nervous as Jemma feels. At least Bennett Halverson looks like she's about to throw up; Jemma can relate to that.

And then there's Skye. She's standing by Miles and some of their other friends, people that Jemma now knows that Skye met through her penchant for getting up to trouble with computers. Skye's hair is pulled back in a braid that hangs down her back and Jemma feels an odd thrill as she thinks about the way it feels to run her fingers through Skye's hair, to feel it brushing against her cheeks and shoulders when they kiss. Maybe she shouldn't be thinking like that right now but Jemma finds that she relishes in this distraction.

And, honestly, maybe she shouldn't be thinking about that ever. Because out of those eleven people that Jemma has to be beat in order to get the money, one of them is Skye. Jemma feels nauseous all over again.

Tripp quickly calls order to the crowd gathered around the road. He has to raise his voice in order to be heard over the sound of the passing cars, even though they're still standing a ways back from the road. Jemma watches the cars passing, trying desperately to find some sort of pattern or trick she can use to help herself. Of course, there's nothing. Sometimes there's cars passing constantly for three minutes. Sometimes the roads are empty for five minutes at a time. Jemma doesn't like random. She likes plans and patterns. Clearly The Game isn't cut out for that kind of thing.

Skye comes to stand beside her and Jemma feels a hint of relief spreading through her body. Their shoulders brush together but Jemma manages to keep herself from reaching out to take Skye's hand. It probably wouldn't matter whether she did or not but she feels too frozen to move much anyway.

"Okay, so, you guys have probably all figured out why you're here." Tripp begins and there's a murmur of agreement amongst the crowd. "You have to cross all eight lanes and make it to the other side of the highway." He points to the field that seems so close but so impossibly far away. "Wearing this." Tripp holds up the blindfold that Jemma remembers pulling off her head after dragging herself out of the pool and she shudders.

And then Tripp's words really sink in. Cross the highway. Blind. There are more than a few people protesting this decree and it takes Jemma a second to realize that Fitz is adding his voice to the objections. Not that it really matters. Rules are rules and if she doesn't like it then she doesn't have to play. Easy as that.

Bennett Halverson seems to think this is the best choice and walks off, muttering curses and complaints as she goes. And just like that, there are only ten other people for Jemma to beat. She knows she's going to put that blindfold on and cross the road. Because that's who she is now.

Jemma glances over at Skye and that boldly determined girl that Jemma fell for in the beginning of the summer is back. Skye looks at her but there's no reassuring smile or devil-may-care wink. There's just the assurance that they can do this and a silent plea for Jemma to be careful.

Tripp calls Ward's name first and Tripp puts the blindfold on, steering him to the edge of the road. One of the passing cars blares its horn and Ward jumps back but he just laughs, shaking his head as he steps forward once more. He stands there, head tilted, listening. Jemma holds her breath, watching him. Her palms are already aching from the way her nails are digging into her skin; she isn't sure that she could stop herself from crying out if Ward was about to get hit by a car. One of Tripp's ground rules involves no comments or help from the people watching and so far everyone is complying. But Ward hasn't even left the grass yet.

There's a lull in traffic. Jemma can't see any headlights in either direction and she bounces on her heels nervously, silently urging him to go. Ward seems to sense the break in traffic as well and takes off running. He doesn't stop until he hits the guardrail, signaling that he's made it to the halfway point.

Ward gets his chance to run across the four remaining lanes and just like that, he's made it through the fourth challenge. Jemma can't help but let out a sigh of relief, even though it means that Ward is still in The Game. Honestly, she doesn't care so much about the competition as long as no one ends up splattered on the side of the road. She's competitive but she's not that extreme.

Jemma has to endure watching two more people make the dash across the road before Tripp calls her name and Jemma finds herself walking forward, almost as though her legs are moving on their own accord. She doesn't glance back to look at Skye or Fitz, certain that would steal all her resolve. Instead, Jemma just lets Tripp tie on the blindfold and guide her to the edge of the road.

Jemma feels like her muscles wouldn't move right now even if she begged them to. It pretty much goes against all rational human behavior. It's just not smart to go running toward something you can't see, especially when you know you're about to go running into traffic.

She takes a deep breath and tries to listen, tilting her head like Ward did as though that will somehow make a difference. It's hard to hear anything but her heart pounding in her ears. Jemma flinches when she hears a car zoom by and it's impossible to tell how close it was. She listens as several more pass, thankful that this particular challenge doesn't come with a time limit.

Finally, the road is silent. Jemma waits, counting to five but still there's nothing. Bloody idiot, she thinks right as she starts running. When she reaches the guardrail, she hits it so hard that she nearly pitches forward and lands on the other side. Thankfully, Jemma manages to catch herself before completely stripping herself of her dignity. Jemma grabs the rail, catching her breath and trying to slow her heartbeat. It's completely disorienting with the blindfold and the sounds around her and her own pounding heart. But she's halfway across, she can do this.

Jemma carefully climbs over the rail to the other side and listens. The next car that passes blares the horn and Jemma finds it a little harder to move for the next few minutes, even though it's been quiet. Finally she forces herself to move away from the guardrail, taking a few steps forward. The sound of an approaching car causes her to stop but she can't figure out what direction it's coming from. Jemma turns around, taking a step backward. She pauses and turns back, taking another step forward. She feels like an animal, like she can't think straight through the jumble of thoughts pummeling through her mind.

Jemma forces herself to take another step forward and then another, hoping that she's not moving back toward the guardrail. She's shaking so hard that it's almost impossible to stay upright but she doesn't care. She'll crawl across the road if she has to, just like she did on the first challenge. And look at her now.

Though, honestly, Jemma is really regretting that jump from the quarry right about now.

The sound of a car motor reaches her ears and this time Jemma realizes that there is a definite difference between cars on the side of the highway that she's already crossed and the ones on the road she's currently standing on. And this one is definitely closer.

So, of course, she freezes. Jemma understands all the dead animals that she's seen on the side of the road before; freezing up and waiting for the inevitable seems to be the only thing to do.

When Jemma tries to make herself move, it's like her body is made of lead and it's impossible to lift her foot more than an inch off the ground. The sound of the horn sends a flash of terror ripping through her body and Jemma can hear Skye and Fitz shouting her name, their voices crackling with panic.

Jemma stumbles, tripping herself on her ankles and falling backward. She wants to cry when she lands on grass instead of pavement. She was right there the whole time. What an idiot. The car goes flying past, still blaring the horn and the driver shouts something that Jemma can't make out. It doesn't matter. She made it, she's on the other side. She beat the challenge and wasn't hit by a car. Jemma pulls off the blindfold and collapses backward onto the grass, laughing at the sheer stupidity of this whole moment.

Fitz is suddenly there beside her, prattling on about what an idiot she is and how he thought she was about to die and how glad he is that she's okay. She lets him haul her to her feet and he gives her a hug before shaking her a few times for good measure, still lecturing her in between expressing relief.

And then Skye is there too, pulling Jemma into her arms and holding her so tightly that Jemma feels the breath whoosh out of her lungs. Jemma doesn't care. She just clings to Skye, certain that if Skye were to let her go she'd just collapse into a heap on the ground.

Thankfully that doesn't happen, though Jemma still feels a stab of disappointment when Skye finally moves away. Skye's eyes are impossible to read, but her relief is obvious. Jemma smiles, though she doesn't think it's very convincing.

When Jemma glances over at Fitz, he looks surprised and angry, looking at Skye like he's never really seen her before. Jemma wishes that she'd thought to mention the time she'd been spending with Skye before this moment. Oh well, cat is out of the bag now, she supposes.

Fitz doesn't say anything but Jemma can tell that he wants to. She's grateful for his silence, though she knows he's just saving all his comments for the next time they're alone. She figures that she can take it. Nothing seems all that frightening comparatively speaking.

Crossing back over the road without the blindfold and with Fitz and Skye on either side of her is much easier. Jemma is still drastically relieved when she's back on the other side though. Tripp gives her a reassuring smile before turning his attention to Skye. "You know that doesn't count, right?" He questions. "You have to cross with the blind-"

"I know the rules." Skye snaps, rolling her eyes. "I think I can handle it."

Skye snatches the blindfold away from Jemma and ties it on; even though her eyes are hidden, Jemma can still imagine the glare that she's giving to Tripp right now. Jemma feels the sudden urge to grab her and pull her back from the road, to beg her not to cross. But Jemma just bites her tongue, settling for grabbing onto Fitz's arm tightly.

Jemma is pretty sure that watching someone perform the challenge is nearly as terrifying as actually doing it. Nearly. Watching Skye is a whole different kind of fear than what she felt for herself and by the time Skye makes it safely to the other side, Jemma is pretty sure that her heart won't be able to withstand anymore anxiety or fear for the next ten years. She's met her quota. Jemma moves away from Fitz to put her arms around Skye and it's only then that she's finally reassured that Skye is okay and they've made it through.

"Don't do anything like that again, okay?" Skye says softly against Jemma's ear, wrapping her arms around Jemma's waist. "I thought you…just don't, okay?"

Jemma smiles at her and nods. "I'm definitely not going to be rushing to that again, trust me."

Though, in a few weeks, she'll just be doing something different but equally stupid. And then again a few weeks after that. But it doesn't seem necessary to point that out right now.

tbc.


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I am deeply indebted to everyone who is reading this story and supplying me with your thoughts and feedback. I appreciate it more than I can say and I'm so glad that everyone is enjoying this! I would also like to say thanks to tumblr user dementage for the wonderful gif set based around this story. Thanks!

Chapter Six 

"So."

Even with just that one word, Jemma can hear the tension in Fitz's voice, mixed with irritation and maybe even a little bit of disappointment. They've been in the car for only a few minutes, heading away from The Road and the insanity of the challenge and Skye and everything that seems to be the opposite of the quiet security of the homes they've grown up in. Jemma looks out the window and doesn't say anything; she doubts that Fitz will need any sort of encouragement to continue.

"Is there something going on between you and Skye?" Fitz questions in a tone that suggests that he already knows the answer. Jemma doesn't respond. "Jemma…why didn't you tell me?"

The anger has suddenly disappeared from his voice and all that remains is the disappointment and exasperation. Jemma just looks over at him and shrugs; the truth is that there's a part of her that's ashamed of keeping it from Fitz. They never keep things from each other; she doesn't like the taste of it.

"You should just be careful." Fitz says.

Jemma arches an eyebrow. "Of Skye?" She can't keep the incredulous tone from her voice. The more time she spends with Skye, the more obvious it is that the tough, unapproachable persona is nothing more than an act.

Fitz gives her a look, seemingly annoyed by her response. "Jemma, don't be so short-sided." He remarks. "You can't possibly forget about The Game."

Jemma just scoffs and shakes her head. "That's not what's going on here." She mumbles, shifting in her seat.

She doesn't want to admit that that thought has crossed her mind a few times already, when she finds herself trying to figure out why someone like Skye could possibly be interested in someone like her. It just doesn't make sense, unless you take into consideration the idea that Skye isn't just playing The Game for the benefit of the judges.

Thankfully, Fitz doesn't press the issue. Jemma doesn't need his voice in the back of her head too, slipping in thoughts of doubt.

* * * * 

But, whenever Jemma is with Skye, all hints of doubt vanish. She wonders if it's because she has no reason to doubt things at all or because she just doesn't care if there is. It doesn't seem to matter. Not with Skye.

What started out as them watching a movie on Jemma's computer in her room has quickly turned into them not caring much about the movie at all, focusing instead on one another. Jemma feels like the combination of the heat of the day and the lazy pressure of Skye's lips against her skin have worked her into a stupor. She feels like anything other than this, than laying here with Skye tucked against her, would require far too much energy.

Skye has her arm draped across Jemma's waist and her head resting on Jemma's shoulder. Jemma likes the weight of her; she makes Jemma feel solid and grounded in a way that she hasn't in a long time.

Skye lets out a contented hum when Jemma slips her fingers through her hair, absently twisting the tresses around her fingers. "You're going to make me fall asleep." She warns, her eyes closing as the movie continues to play on, unnoticed.

Jemma smiles, letting out a contented sigh. "That's all right."

Skye lifts her head and the smile on her face borders on skeptical and sardonic. "Sure you aren't ready to get rid of me?"

"Of course not." Jemma gives her a lazy smile, lightly tracing the curve of Skye's jaw line. "I want you to stay as long as you like."

Skye kisses her and the lazy kisses are gone, suddenly replaced by the type of kiss that seems to steal Jemma's breath away and turn her body electric. Skye shifts her position so she's laying almost on top of Jemma instead of beside her and Jemma puts her hands against Skye's sides, keeping her in place.

Skye pulls away and Jemma's eyes flutter open, a disappointed look flitting across her face. "Say it again."

Jemma feels too dazed to figure out what she's talking about, too dazed to do anything other than stare at her.

"That you want me." Skye's words are coy but Jemma can see the desperate need in her eyes, the longing for those words.

Jemma rests her hand against Skye's cheek. "Of course I want you." She says softly, pulling Skye in for another kiss.

Skye smiles against her lips and Jemma pulls her closer, hoping that Skye can hear the sentiment repeated in her touch.

The front door opens and slams shut and Jemma tenses when she hears her mother calling her name. Skye laughs softly and moves so that she's laying on her back, now a appropriate distance away from Jemma. "Parents." She mutters and Jemma just rolls her eyes at her.

"Jemma! I need your help with something!" Katherine calls from down the hall and Jemma hops out of bed quickly, smoothing down her shirt and hair just in case her mother decides to walk in.

"In a minute, Mum." Jemma calls back in hopes that she can keep her mother from walking in and seeing Skye lounging around on her bed. She hopes that she doesn't sound as breathless as she feels.

"I got some flowers to plant outside." Katherine continues, seemingly unaware of the way her daughter sounds far from composed and out of breath. "The realtor said it might help the house sell."

Jemma just rolls her eyes and looks at Skye, who grins at her. "Okay Mum. I'll be right there." She promises, exasperated.

"Sorry." Jemma apologizes, shrugging her shoulders. "I think this is the first mother-daughter activity she's wanted to do in months." So, of course, it has to be right in the middle of another activity that Jemma would much rather be doing.

Skye gets off the bed and walks over to where Jemma is standing. She tucks a twisted lock of hair behind Jemma's ear and gives her a quick kiss. "To be continued then." She winks and Jemma really wishes that her mother could have waited even a few minutes more to come home.

To Jemma's surprise, Skye sticks around to help with the all-important planting of the brand new flower bed and even accepts Katherine's invitation to stay for dinner. Despite her burst of energy and the brief return of the old Katherine Simmons, she isn't much of a conversationalist during dinner, apparently having expended all her vigor earlier in the day. It's a bit of a relief, honestly; Jemma is glad that Katherine doesn't seem interested in giving Skye the third degree. Far less embarrassing that way.

Skye leaves not long after dinner, muttering something vague about needing to head home and Jemma feels the way she always does whenever Skye leaves: disappointed and eager for the next time she'll get to see her.

Katherine has moved from the kitchen to the couch, staring absently at the blank television set on the wall in front of her. She turns to look at Jemma when she steps back into the house and there's an amused smile on her face. It's an expression that Jemma hasn't seen in a while.

"You know," Katherine begins, almost wistfully, "I was always so certain that you would eventually end up with Fitz."

Jemma rolls her eyes but it's hard not to smile at her mother's teasing tone. "Mum." She just shakes her head. "You know it's not like that with me and Fitz."

Katherine arches an eyebrow. "Obviously."

Jemma ignores the comment, heading down the hallway toward her room. But she's still smiling.

* * * * 

Jemma has never been to a high school party before. She spent the last four years of her life hearing of their existence and listening to the stories on Monday mornings, but she's never actually been to one. And, to be honest, the urge to go never really struck her. She was perfectly content with hanging around her house or Fitz's on the weekends while her classmates had too much to drink and made undoubtedly stupid decisions.

But, apparently, Jemma won't be able to claim that she's never been to a high school party for much longer. Because it seems as though Miles is throwing an it's-getting-close-to-the-end-of-summer party because his parents are going out of town and when Skye suggests that Jemma stop by Saturday night, it's not hard for her to say yes. While parties aren't necessarily her cup of tea, Jemma isn't going to turn down any excuse to hang out with Skye.

Convincing Fitz to tag along proves to be a little bit more difficult but, in the end, he caves just like Jemma knew that he would. They haven't talked about Skye since the night of the fourth challenge, though Jemma didn't exactly hide the fact that Skye was the one who suggested they attend the party.

"She said 'you and Fitz?'" Fitz had questioned skeptically when Jemma first brought up the idea of going to Miles', giving Jemma a doubtful look.

"Of course!" Jemma had replied brightly, even though that wasn't exactly true. "She wants to get to know you." This, at least, Jemma assumes isn't a lie. She doubts that Skye would mind Fitz tagging along.

Miles lives a little ways outside of town on what apparently used to be a horse farm. Since his grandfather died, however, there haven't been any horses around. Instead, there's just a lot of land and a giant barn, which seem to equal the perfect party locations. There are cars parked all throughout the yard and the field around the house and they can already hear music coming from inside the house, mingling with the sounds of laughter and dozens of different conversations and the occasional cheer or shout. Apparently The Game isn't the only thing that can draw a crowd.

Fitz gives her an are you sure about this look as he switches off the car and even though Jemma doesn't feel all that certain, she just smiles at him. "It'll be fun."

Fitz still doesn't look convinced but he gets out of the car and follows her to the front door. There seem to be a large number of people gathered in the barn, playing around with the old horse equipment or lounging around on the hay bales but they bypass the barn and head up the walk, toward the open front door.

Miles greets them almost the second they walk through the door and his crooked grin gives Jemma the impression that he's already on his way to drunk. "Hey…guys." He drawls, looking momentarily confused to see people like Jemma and Fitz standing in his foyer. "What's up?"

He doesn't actually wait for an answer though. Miles just points to a card table set up by the door, which has stacks of Solo cups on it as well as a plastic water jug full of bills and loose change. "It's five bucks if you want to drink." He says this in a way that suggests that there's no other alterative.

Jemma glances over at Fitz and she's sure they're both wearing equally uncertain looks on their faces. Before either of them can speak, Skye walks up behind Miles and pops him on the back of the head. "Don't be a dick." She chides, glaring at him. She picks up two cups off the table and hands them to Fitz and Jemma, ignoring Miles' protests.

Skye steers them away from Miles and deeper into the house, which is packed full with people despite the number of people already hanging out in the barn. Jemma is pretty sure that the entire senior class is hanging out at Miles' right now. And yeah, that might be an exaggeration but it definitely doesn't feel like one with people on all sides of her. The music blaring from the stereo in the living room doesn't particularly help the situation and everything still feels incredibly close and overwhelming. Jemma remembers why she never felt inclined to attend high school shindigs before. Skye's hand on the small of her back helps matters slightly and is probably the only thing keeping her from running for the hills.

Fitz looks just as awkward and out of place. He keeps glancing around like he's in a room with wild animals instead of his peers and Jemma is grateful that he agreed to come because it's nice having him around even if the only thing he's doing is giving off the same awkward and uncertain vibes that she's sure that she's broadcasting. Fitz wordlessly hands over his cup when Skye offers to get them a drink, even though Jemma has never seen him have so much as a single sip of beer in his life. Clearly he's too overwhelmed by everything else going on to remember this fact himself.

"I wasn't sure you were going to come." Skye confesses as she hands Jemma back her own cup, now filled with frothy beer that honestly doesn't look all that appealing. "I thought…I don't know." She shrugs. "It might not be your scene."

Jemma shakes her head. "No, it's definitely not." She says. "I've never been to a party before, actually." Jemma feels like she's practically shouting over the music. Skye wasn't shouting, was she? Great, now she's that weird girl who's so uncool she yells over the music and admits that she never goes to parties.

But Skye just smiles and shrugs. "Well, there's a first time for everything." She says. "Cheers." She taps her cup against Jemma's and then takes a drink.

Jemma sips from her own cup and then grimaces, unable to help herself. She feels herself getting drastically uncooler by the second. Thankfully Skye is still smiling at her; Jemma has no idea how that's even possible but she's feeling particularly grateful right now.

Skye leads them out of the kitchen and living room and down a flight of stairs that leads into the basement, which has been converted to an entertaining space. There's a pool table and a giant television and a mini-bar and a jukebox. At least the music from upstairs isn't quite so loud down here.

A few people are already gathered on the large, leather couch that could easily fit a dozen people, engaged in a very loud and enthusiastic argument about the virtues and negatives of Sansa Stark. Skye sits down on the unoccupied end and Jemma is happy to sandwich herself between Skye and Fitz, pleased that she's not being required to socialize or drink with the majority of the party guests. Fitz seems relieved as well, though he occasionally glances down at his beer like he still has no idea what he's supposed to do with it. Plus, he's making polite conversation with Skye, which is definitely a first and Jemma can only hope that this is a breakthrough and that Fitz will toss his animosity aside and start to see the Skye that Jemma has been seeing all this time.

But, it's a little hard not to be optimistic with Skye absently toying with her hair, her fingers resting against the nape of her neck. Even that simple touch is delicious and Jemma can't keep a smile off her face.

"Skye! Skye!" The girl in question just rolls her eyes at the sound of Miles shouting her name from the top of the stairs. "Skye! Are you down there?!"

Skye doesn't answer in the affirmative but Miles comes barreling down the stairs anyway, spilling beer as he hurries over to where Skye is currently sitting. "Thank God." He breathes a heavy sigh of relief when he sees her sitting there. "I need you. Two words: beer pong."

There's a seriousness to his tone and his face that makes Jemma want to laugh, though she doubts that Miles will find the humor in the situation. Skye protests but somehow Miles manages to pull her off the couch and drag her up the stairs, all the while talking about the seriousness of the situation at hand. Skye just barely has the chance to give Jemma an apologetic look before she disappears up the stairs to go help Miles avenge himself in a game of beer pong.

Jemma glances around but no one seems to be paying them any attention and she doesn't know anyone else down in the basement well enough to just strike up a conversation with them. So she just looks at Fitz and smiles brightly. "This is fun, don't you think?"

Fitz just shrugs, glancing down at the beer in his hands. "I guess." But he doesn't seem annoyed or mopey so Jemma considers that a good sign.

"Thanks for coming, Fitz." Jemma says with a smile, putting her hand on his knee.

Fitz just scoffs. "You'd think I would let you go by yourself?" He rolls his eyes but he's smiling and Jemma thinks that maybe things will be able to go back to the way they were before. Fitz will stop sulking and glaring all the time and he'll come to accept Skye as being a part of Jemma's life and everything will be great and perfect.

Of course, Jemma seems to have suddenly developed the habit of thinking about the future as though the summer will never come to an end and they'll all be stuck in this post-high school limbo forever. When she has Fitz and Skye and there's no question of Fitz's imminent departure. In a few weeks, Fitz will be leaving with or without her and if Jemma manages to win The Game and go with him, then she'll be leaving without Skye.

Jemma suddenly feels like she has a whole lot more to lose, even after everything that's been taken over the past few months.

Fitz seems to sense her sudden change in demeanor because he gives her a reassuring look and it's like he can read her mind. Which honestly wouldn't surprise Jemma at this point. "Listen, Jem, I-"

But he doesn't get to finish his sentence because one of the people involved in the heated discussion about the Stark clan throws his arms out wildly as he makes a point and knocks into Fitz, spilling the contents of Fitz's plastic cup all over Jemma. Jemma just lets out a resigned sigh as the liquid starts to soak into her jeans and shirt and Fitz just looks at the cup in his hand like he has no idea how such a thing could have happened.

"Jemma, I'm so sorry." Fitz apologizes, glancing around for something to help clean her up.

"It's not your fault, Fitz." Jemma tells him as she gets to her feet. "I'm just going to find the loo. I'll be right back." She waves away his offer to come with her and just heads up to the stairs.

Several people bump into her as she tries to make her way through the house but no one actually stops to apologize or acknowledge that she's there at all. Jemma narrowly manages to avoid having more beer spilled on her but she has yet to find the bathroom, which seems like a more difficult task than necessary.

Jemma rounds the corner and bumps right into Skye, who looks surprised to see her upstairs. "Hey. Sorry about that. Miles is such an idiot."

"It's all right." Jemma assures her and then glances down at herself. "Do you know where the bathroom is? I have beer all over me."

Skye gives her a sympathetic look and takes her hand, pulling her closer. But instead of leading her toward the bathroom, Skye just leans in like she's going to kiss her but (infuriatingly enough) doesn't. "You want to get out of here?" She questions. "If I don't get out now Miles will rope me into playing more games of beer pong with him."

Jemma nods, pretty sure that she would have agreed to anything if Skye had asked her with her lips so close to her skin. "Okay." She pauses, glancing over her shoulder. "What about Fitz?"

Skye shrugs. "He drove, right?"

And, for some reason, Jemma finds that as a perfectly acceptable reason to leave the party with Skye without mentioning to Fitz that she's going. Normally, she exercises more judgment than this. But it seems to have deserted her now.

Without even having to ask, Jemma knows that they're heading to Skye's secret hideaway. After all, where else would they be going? It's not too far from Miles' and the night is nice and warm and Skye's hand is in hers so Jemma thinks there are worse things she could be doing right now.

Once they get to the old building, Skye busies herself switching on the camping lanterns and Jemma finds even more signs of habitation than she's used to seeing. In addition to the blankets and boxes, there's clothes scattered around the floor and a pair of boots carelessly tossed aside. Skye notices Jemma taking in the scene and just shrugs. "Sorry. I was…running late."

Skye suddenly seems self-conscious of the space or maybe of the fact that Jemma is watching her so intently and starts gathering up the clothes, desperately trying to straighten the space like it's not a derelict building. Jemma doesn't say anything and finally Skye stops bustling around the space and glances back at her, hesitation in her eyes. "I kinda…you know…" She shrugs, tossing the boots into the corner. "Live here."

Jemma just nods, taking a step toward Skye. "I had an inkling." She says softly, taking Skye's hands. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

Skye just shakes her head and pulls her hands away from Jemma's, turning away. "It's not exactly the type of thing I like to go around advertising." She says with a scoff. "You're actually the only person who knows so…you know…" Once again, Skye just shrugs, keeping her back to Jemma.

"Skye…"

"I get it, if it's weird." Skye interrupts. "You don't have to stay."

Jemma just rolls her eyes even though Skye can't see her. Which is a shame; she feels like Skye would really appreciate the incredulous look on her face. "Don't be ridiculous, Skye." She chides. She steps up behind her, slipping her arms around Skye's waist and resting her chin against Skye's shoulder. "What about your parents?" She questions tentatively.

Jemma is pretty sure that the only thing that keeps Skye from shrugging all over again is their current position. Instead, she just shakes her head. "I have no idea." She mutters. "I've never…I've lived in an orphanage most of my life. Except for the occasional foster home." Skye pauses, considering. "Though, sometimes, it's hard to say which was worse."

"But living here is better?" Jemma questions, hesitation in her voice. She can't even begin to put herself in Skye's position so she doesn't want to assume that she knows the answer to her question. Or that she really understands any of the things that have motivated Skye to get to this point.

Skye finally turns around and Jemma can still see the hesitation and embarrassment in her eyes. "After the last place…yeah." She tells Jemma. "I kept going to school so my case worker never found out and they keep getting the checks so they don't say anything so clearly it worked out for everyone. And I'm almost eighteen so soon it's not going to matter anyway."

"That's why you're playing The Game." Jemma says and she feels like all the pieces of Skye, the things that have been kept from her until now, finally click into place.

Skye just nods, wry smile still in place. "We have a lot in common." She remarks. "We both need that money to get the hell out of here."

Jemma thinks about the money and how they both have so much at stake and no more than a fleeting hope of actually making things better.

Skye just shakes her head. "Look, sorry. I didn't mean to…I don't usually do this." She laughs but the sound is forced. "Just talk about this kind of stuff. Sorry."

Jemma clicks her tongue and gives Skye a disapproving look. "Stop." She says, kissing Skye. "You can tell me anything."

"Well, in that case…" Skye takes a deep breath. "I actually really do like ice cream."

Jemma throws up her hands, backing away from Skye. "I feel like this whole relationship has been founded on a lie. How can I ever trust you again?" She laughs and lets Skye pull her close once more. "It's okay, Skye." She says softly. "I just wish I could help."

"You already have." Skye assures her. "You have no idea. I…" She ducks her head, embarrassed. "People don't usually want me." Her voice strains with the truth of it.

Jemma doesn't say anything. She just pulls Skye to her and kisses her. She thinks that probably says more than she ever could.

* * * * 

When Jemma wakes up the following morning, she feels the same wave of disorientation that she experienced after the first night she spent with Skye. Only it takes a lot less time for her to remember where she is and why. The fact that Skye is curled around her body definitely helps. Skye's bare skin is hot against hers and already prickled with sweat even though it's still early morning. Skye's breathing is deep and rhythmic, her breath tickling the back of Jemma's neck, her arms holding Jemma close even though she's still lost in sleep.

Jemma feels her own skin grow hot and her heart falter in her chest as she thinks about the night before. She never would have imagined that her first high school party would end with her being undressed on a blanket on the floor of a falling down shed but when that was actually happening, Jemma definitely didn't mind. She didn't mind anything about last night. Not Skye's lips against her skin and the curve of her clavicle or her hips. Not the way that Skye held her close as she slipped her fingers inside, pushing and curling and coaxing until Jemma fell apart beneath her. Not the way Skye had breathed out her name in desperate gasps as Jemma let her trembling hands do some exploring and curling and coaxing of their own. Not the way it had felt to fall asleep with her body flush with Skye's, their limbs tangled together and the beating of Skye's heart in her ear.

The only thing that Jemma does mind, in fact, is that now that she's awake she feels like she can't claim ignorance any longer. She can't put off going home and dealing with the rest of the world; she can't just stay here with Skye.

Jemma heaves a sigh, shifting her position slowly and carefully even though she knows the slight movement is bound to wake Skye anyway. Skye comes awake all at once and Jemma feels a tug in her chest as she thinks about how Skye learned to wake up like this: quickly and immediately on the defensive.

"Good morning." Jemma says softly as she watches Skye relax as she processes the situation. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to wake you."

Skye shrugs. "I'm a light sleeper." She says dismissively. "Are you leaving?"

It's obvious that Skye doesn't want her to go and Jemma wishes that she didn't have to, that she could stay and while the morning and afternoon away with Skye. But she nods. "Yes. For now." She tells Skye. "I don't think it would benefit either of us to have my mum put me on house arrest."

Even Skye has to admit the logic behind this point. "Fine." She says, pouting. "I can walk you."

The fact that she says this around a yawn makes Jemma just smirk and roll her eyes. "I think I can manage." She assures Skye. "You get some more rest."

Jemma wishes that she could tell Skye to come with her, that she could find a place for Skye that didn't involve a falling down old barn. But that's a problem she'll have to work on solving when she isn't tired and sated. So, instead, Jemma just focuses on the problem of collecting the clothing that she wore the night before. Unfortunately her shirt and jeans still smell like beer but it's either put them on or walk home in just her under things and Jemma thinks she can handle the beer smell for a little while longer.

It's hard to leave Skye and the goodbye kiss lasts longer than Jemma anticipated at first. But she eventually manages to convince Skye that she can find her own way home, just this once, and forces herself to move in that direction. Jemma figures this has got to be some sort of record: it's her second walk of shame in as many months. It's still early enough to hope that she can avoid her mother this time.

What Jemma isn't counting on is having Fitz waiting for her on the front stoop. As soon as she sees him sitting there she feels her heart drop to her feet and she feels ashamed for not stopping for two minutes to tell him that she was leaving last night. Fitz looks like a kicked puppy but even worse, he looks disappointed in her and Jemma feels like something has suddenly, irrevocably broken between them.

Fitz looks up when he hears her footsteps and he just gives her the once over. "Glad to see you aren't dead in a ditch somewhere." He remarks.

Jemma sighs and even though she feels awkward just standing there in front of him, it somehow seems more comfortable than trying to join him on the stairs. "Fitz, I'm sorry-"

"You didn't even tell me you were leaving." Fitz interrupts. "You just got up and never came back. I had to find out from other people that my best friend left me at some ridiculous party without even a goodbye." He shakes his head. "And where have you been, anyway? Sleeping with the enemy?"

Jemma feels herself flush, her cheeks and the tips of her ears suddenly burning hot. Fitz's expression quickly turns to one of surprise and it's clear that he hadn't expected his snide comment to hit so close to home. Jemma doesn't like the way that she suddenly feels; like she's done something wrong. Being with Skye hadn't felt like something wrong; Jemma wishes that she had never left.

Fitz just shakes his head, getting to his feet. That disappointed look is back. "Great." He mutters. "Well, I hope you had fun." He moves to walk past her.

"I said I was sorry!" Jemma snaps at him as he moves past her. She suddenly feels angrier with him than she's ever been before in her life and she doesn't care that it's early or that anyone might hear; she wants to yell at him until she doesn't feel angry at him anymore. "I'm sorry I left you at the party! But stop acting like I'm some sort of horrible person!"

Fitz whirls around to face her and Jemma finds it more infuriating than she should that he still doesn't look angry. He still just looks disappointed in her. "I'm not even mad about the party Jemma!" He retorts. "Don't you get it?!"

Jemma scoffs. "Obviously not, Fitz. Why don't you enlighten me. What is it that has you so upset this time?"

"It's like you've completely forgotten everything!" Fitz snaps. "Seventy thousand dollars, Jemma! Seventy thousand dollars. That's so much money, Jemma. That's…that's…just think about all that money."

Jemma throws up her hands, shaking her head. "If you're so interested in the money, Fitz, why aren't you playing The Game?" She rolls her eyes.

"Because I'm not as brave as you are!" Fitz shouts and Jemma doesn't think she's ever heard him raise his voice, not like this. "Isn't that bloody obvious? I've never been as brave as you are, Jemma."

"I'm not brave, Fitz."

Fitz laughs but there's no humor to the sound. "Yes, you are. You've always been fearless. You could win, Jemma. You could win. That's why you can't…you can't just throw it all away." He begs, his voice straining. "You can't."

Jemma shakes her head, taking a step toward the house. "That's not what's going on here, Fitz."

"You're a bad liar."

Jemma just turns back at him, glaring. She's spent the entire walk home reflecting on her conversation with Skye, weighing Skye's confession about her situation and why she was playing The Game against her own reasons. Nothing came from her circular mental ramblings but that doesn't seem to matter; Fitz can see the sudden doubt written all over her body anyway.

"You don't know anything." Jemma spits. "And that's what has you so upset. I'm finally doing something that you aren't a part of."

Fitz rolls his eyes at her. "Please. You don't think I'm honestly that petty. I don't care that you're spending all your time with Skye! I just don't want you to throw everything away on someone like her! This is your future, Jemma, this is your chance. Don't lose for her."

"If I want your advice, I'll ask for it." Jemma informs him frankly. "And I'm not asking."

Jemma stalks toward the house, unlocking the door and throwing it open with enough force that it smacks against the wall. She slams it shut behind her, not caring if she wakes Katherine, not bothering to turn back to see what Fitz is doing or how he's reacting to her words. She just goes into her room and buries herself beneath the covers, wondering what might happen if she just stayed right here forever.

Of course, Jemma knows that's not really an option. Because, even if she stays in bed with the covers pulled over her head, the world with continue to turn on. Time will continue to pass; the day won't stop for her. She's had plenty of opportunity to learn this over the past few months.

Jemma thinks about Fitz and the things they said to each other. A part of her wants to apologize because she already misses her best friend and they've never fought before, not really, not like this. But there's another part of her that doesn't want to apologize because she feels like she's the one entitled to hear those words. Because Fitz doesn't know what he's talking about, especially not when it comes to Skye.

Plus Fitz is wrong. Things with Skye aren't going to change the way she plays The Game. She needs that money too, as the letter on her desk can attest to.

Jemma thinks about Skye living in that falling down shed and stealing apples from the grocery store and she just groans and buries her face in her pillow. You know what she really hates?

Everything.

Jemma gets out of bed and forces herself to get in the shower in hopes that it'll clear her head and make everything easier somehow. Physically, she feels better; it feels good to wash the smells of the party off herself and rinse the sweat from her skin. Her hips are bruised slightly from Skye's fingers and there's a bruise on her sternum from Skye's lips. Suddenly Jemma misses her as much as she misses Fitz.

At least that's one thing that she can remedy. Once Jemma gets out of the shower and dresses in clothes that don't smell like stale beer, she sends Skye a text inviting her over and while she waits for Skye to show up, Jemma tries to busy herself to take her mind off her argument with Fitz. But, she just ends up laying on the couch and watching one of those talk shows where they try to find out who the father of a woman's baby is.

It's definitely a relief when Skye finally shows up. Jemma needs someone to save her from herself right now.

Skye looks at her skeptically when Jemma answers the door. "What's the matter?"

Jemma tries to dismiss Skye's question as she flops back down on the couch but she doesn't actually manage to even speak the word "nothing" before her voice cracks and she just starts crying. Skye takes her in her arms and just holds her while she cries and Jemma feels bad because this is not what she had in mind when she invited Skye over but she feels better anyway, soothed by Skye's whispered words.

Finally Jemma composes herself enough to explain that she and Fitz fought earlier that morning, though she keeps some of the details to herself. Skye kisses her on the forehead and smiles. "I'm sure you guys will get it worked out soon." She tells Jemma. "You seem like you're psychically linked or something. He'll come around."

"I hope you're right." Jemma mutters, resting her head against Skye's shoulder. Skye slips her arm around her, holding her close.

They fall asleep like that, fitted together on the couch with bad daytime television still droning on. Jemma wakes up briefly when she hears the front door open and her mother come inside carrying groceries but Jemma is far too comfortable to think about getting up. So she just readjusts her position, tucking herself back against Skye and drifts off back to sleep.

tbc.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, you guys, this is finally the end. I'd just like to thank everyone for their continual feedback and thoughts. It's meant more than you know. I hope that you all enjoy the ending and thanks again for reading and sticking around!

Skye ends up staying for dinner (seeing as they completely slept through lunch) and this time Katherine seems more interested in asking Skye about herself. Jemma tenses but Skye just breezes right through the questions, talking about her nonexistent family with the prowess of someone who is used to telling these lies. If Jemma didn't know better, even she would believe her.

But Jemma does know better. She knows that at the end of the day, Skye is just going to go back to that falling down old shed and fall asleep on a pile of blankets on the very hard (and uncomfortable) ground. Which is why, when Jemma is supposed to be saying goodbye to Skye on the front stoop, she says instead, "You should stay here."

Skye gives her a skeptical look and Jemma just shrugs. "My mum will never notice. You should stay." She says again. "Just for tonight. Please?"

So Skye agrees to scale the trellis once more and sneak in through her bedroom window, just like they're starring in some 80's teen movie. Jemma wonders when she became this type of girl: playing The Game, sneaking out of her house, sneaking her girlfriend in. Lying to her mother, fighting with her best friend. Jemma honestly isn't sure what to make of herself right now.

Jemma hangs around in the living room with Katherine for a while so she doesn't look too suspicious but it's all just a waste of time because her mother doesn't seem notice that she's there at all. So she just goes into her bedroom, locks the door and opens the window for Skye to crawl through.

Having Skye there becomes routine for the next three days. Unfortunately, so does not talking to Fitz. They've never gone this long without speaking to each other and they've definitely never spent this long being mad at each other. Jemma doesn't like it. She feels like everything is all off-kilter, like her world has finally, officially, flipped on its head. She knows she could easily go to Fitz and apologize. But he could just as easily come to her and do the same thing. And so, she just sits around and sulks.

The only thing that seems to make sense right now is Skye. Having Skye sneak through her bedroom window each night quickly becomes one of the favorite parts of Jemma's day. Falling asleep against Skye and waking up spooned against her each morning are definitely some other highlights. It's nice. It's more than nice, honestly. Jemma is pretty sure there isn't a word to perfectly describe how she feels with Skye around.

So, of course, it can't last forever. They're still lying in bed, too lazy and unmotivated to get up, especially since Jemma heard her mother leave hours ago, and when Skye's phone chimes she groans in protest but rolls away from Jemma anyway, snatching the device off the bedside table. She wrinkles her nose, sighs and then shows the screen to Jemma.

It's a text from Miles containing information about the next challenge of The Game. Tomorrow night, midnight, down by the quarry. This concerns Jemma more than it should; they've already jumped off the top of the quarry into the water and the challenges can't be repeated. She's not sure she wants to know what else the judges have in mind for that spot.

But, more than that, it's not like she can just ignore the reality of her situation anymore. Before, it was easy to pretend; she didn't have to focus on anything other than just passing each lazy day with Skye and hoping that she would finally hear from Fitz. But now the most important factor has come back into play: The Game and the fact that only one of them can win. Assuming that either of them are better than the remaining players.

Jemma kinda hopes that she is. So she can finally mail in the letter waiting on her desk. She filled out the acceptance information yesterday when Skye was napping, no longer able to just leave it sitting there, blank and waiting. Jemma might never get to mail it but at least it's ready if she does. It feels so close, dangling just out of her reach. She wants it. Bad.

Skye seems to sense the direction her thoughts are running in because she nudges Jemma lightly, a smirk on her face. "Don't think I'm going to go easy on you, Simmons." She teases.

And just like that, Jemma feels the weight in her chest start to break up. Leave it to Skye to snark about something serious. But it's strange, almost, the relief that she feels. Like now that she knows Skye is going to continue to play The Game like nothing has changed, she can too.

Fitz would be relieved. Assuming they were speaking, of course.

Jemma resists the urge to text him news of tomorrow's challenge. Fitz probably wouldn't be interested in showing up anyway and him choosing not to come is worse than him not coming because he didn't know about it. So Jemma keeps the information to herself and just tries not to agonize and stress about the approaching task.

Thankfully Skye is excellent at providing distractions.

But Friday night comes all the same and now Skye is sneaking out of her bedroom instead of into it and Jemma is following after her, trusting Skye when she assures her that the trellis is perfectly safe. It takes Jemma an embarrassingly long time to climb down; she pauses and clutches the trellis desperately whenever the structure wobbles and shakes beneath her, certain that she's going to fall. "This coming from a girl who crossed a highway blindfolded and ran from a bunch of murderous dogs." Skye smirks when Jemma finally joins her in the front yard.

Jemma just glares at her, even though she thinks that Skye has a point.

By the time they reach the quarry, there are already plenty of people gathered around. Including Jemma, there are eleven competitors left; the majority of the crowd is now made up of spectators and the people who tried to play The Game and failed along the way. Jemma has no idea how she managed to be one of the few remaining people to make it this far; she's pretty sure that her classmates are equally surprised.

Jemma can't stop herself from scanning the crowd, anxiously wringing her hands as she looks at the faces that have become so familiar to her over the course of the summer. Tears prick her eyes when she spots Fitz among them. Clearly he's looking for her too but when their eyes meet, neither of them do anything to acknowledge the other. Jemma thinks that, for now, it means enough that he's here after all.

They're all gathered on the beach and Jemma can see the top of the quarry and the spot she jumped off months ago that started this whole thing. She knows that she should but she can't bring herself to regret that moment. And now it's almost over. Tonight's challenge will determine who will compete in the final challenge, which will be held in a few days. No more waiting. For better or worse, everything as about to end.

Once all the competitors have assembled, Tripp directs everyone to move off the beach, leading the gaggle through one of the wooded paths. But instead of following the path up through the woods and to the top of the quarry, they just come to an open space on the other side of the quarry.

While the beach and the lake are popular with teenagers and kids and anyone looking for a few hours of relaxation, the rocky face of the quarry draws only the people interested in putting their climbing skills to the test. Both the wooded path and the rocky face of the quarry lead to the top, to the point where you can jump into the water if you're feeling particularly adventurous. But, from here, you can't simply walk up the incline. You have to climb.

Jemma doesn't particularly like the sound of that idea. She glances upward, unable to guess the exact distance between where she is now and the top. It could be ten feet or twenty. It doesn't matter. It seems insanely high, regardless of the actual measurements. Jemma has never even given a passing thought to rock climbing before and hardly feels inclined to start now.

"As you all know, this is the second to last challenge for The Game." Tripp says, his voice echoing off the rocky face of the cliff-side behind him. "It's time to see who are true competitors are."

Predictably the audience starts cheering and clapping and a few even start chanting the name of their favorite player. Jemma's stomach just turns over and she worries that she might be sick.

"The first six people to make it to the top will compete in the final challenge." Tripp explains. "The rest of you will be disqualified."

Six people. Six out of eleven. Jemma just has to climb faster than five others. When she thinks about it like that, her odds don't sound so bad. Except for, of course, the whole climbing part.

"Just like the trellis." Skye remarks as she and Jemma join the other competitors at the base of the rock-face.

Jemma can tell Skye is just trying to make her feel better but she just scoffs. "Right because that went so well." She mumbles.

There's enough space for them all to spread out so they won't be trying to climb on top of each other or get caught behind each other. Jemma takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself, glancing upward once more. It looks a lot farther from down here. But she can do this. She just has to be one of six; she doesn't have to be the best, she just has to finish.

Tripp gives the signal and Jemma stops thinking about the odds or the height or the sheer impossibility. She just focuses on finding a place to put her hands and feet and hauling herself up the wall. She tries to keep her attention solely on her own actions, ignoring the people around her. If she sees who is ahead of her or where she falls in the group, she might lose focus completely.

But, as Jemma climbs, it's hard to keep on her tunnel vision. She feels like it's taking her ages to move even an inch at a time but when she finally lets herself glance below her, there are people making less headway than she is. Of course, there are also a few people who seem to be having no trouble climbing up the mountain. Skye, included. Skye is as fearless in this as she is in everything else and Jemma takes a deep breath and keeps climbing, following after her.

Jemma climbs a few more feet before she allows herself to check her progress against the other competitors. Miles is gaining on her, getting closer with each second, but she could easily out distance him. Jemma can hear her heart thudding in her ears, seeming to block out all other sounds around her. She can do this, she knows that she can. She's getting closer with each steady inch that she moves. She can do this.

Jemma feels something grab onto her ankle and she glances down, confused. Miles has grabbed onto her, straining against the weight of holding her foot and keeping himself on the rock. Jemma tries to shake him off but he just grabs the cuff of her jeans and tugs. She feels her grip start to loosen and Jemma desperately tries to shift her position, to pull herself further up and away from Miles.

But Miles just pulls again, tugging harder this time and Jemma feels her tenuous hold loosen completely and she can't regain her footing. She falls.

And just like that, it's over.

* * * * * 

When Jemma opens her eyes, she's most definitely not in her bedroom. She's not even on the floor of Skye's home away from home. It takes her a second to realize that she's in a sterile, overly bright hospital room and her entire body aches and her head is throbbing so badly that it almost brings tears to her eyes. She groans, regretting waking up at all. There's definitely something to be said for blissful ignorance.

But it's too late to go back now; Jemma feels like she'll never slip off to sleep again thanks to the pounding in her head and the dull ache that's spreading across her entire body.

"You're awake." Even though Jemma can tell that Fitz is trying to be nice and quiet, his voice still sounds far too loud to her right now. The noise, coupled with the bright lights overhead, definitely don't do much for her head. She tries to turn in the direction of his voice but Fitz quickly says, "No, you…you shouldn't move. The doctor said you should just rest."

Jemma sighs but figures that it's best to just follow his advice because it hurts a whole lot less this way. "What happened, Fitz?"

"You…you don't remember?" Fitz's voice goes up an octave, the tell-tale sign that he's trying not to completely lose his cool about something and is trying desperately to act like everything is fine and dandy.

Jemma glances at him and quickly regrets even that small movement thanks to flash of pain that shoots through her body. "I remember The Game." She assures him. "And…falling…"

"You didn't fall." Fitz scoffs. "Miles pushed you, that bloody prat." He shakes his head, disgusted.

And now that she thinks about it, Jemma can remember that part too. It all happened too quickly for her to really do anything about it; her grip was already precarious anyway, there's no way she could keep her hold with someone trying to pull her off. But what she doesn't know is what happened after she felt herself start to fall and that's what she tells Fitz.

"The doctor said that you have a single fracture in your tibia and that you'll probably be sore for the next few days. And you might have a concussion because you hit your head when you fell, which is why you're still here. They're keeping you under observation and all that." Fitz tells her. "The doctor says you're lucky you didn't do any serious damage."

Jemma sighs and wrinkles her nose. "I don't feel all that lucky." She mutters. "I feel like someone hit with me with a truck."

At least Fitz's assessment of her condition makes sense. Her body hurts but her leg is numb, likely from whatever painkillers they have her on at the moment. She glances down at herself and sees her right leg encased in plaster and it suddenly hits her exactly what happened. She fell off a cliff; something worse easily could have happened to her. Maybe she should be feeling lucky after all.

Jemma glances back at Fitz, otherwise she feels like she'll keep staring at her leg and replaying the events and the possible outcomes over and over in her mind until she makes herself crazy. "And you brought me here?" She wagers a guess.

Fitz just shrugs. "Someone had to." He mutters. "And your mum is here too. She's just getting coffee."

"Oh right. Mum." Jemma grimaces. "Is she upset?"

The expression on Fitz's face is answer enough and Jemma already finds herself dreading the moment when Katherine returns and finds her awake. "She was worried at first." Fitz tells Jemma. "But now that the doctors know it isn't anything too serious…I think she's just mad."

"Great." Jemma sighs. "It's probably too much to hope that she'll take pity on me because I'm crippled."

Fitz just nods. "Probably."

They're silent for a moment but then Jemma can't stand it anymore. She needs to know. "Who made it?" She questions. "To the top?"

Fitz frowns slightly, his brow creasing. "If you're asking about Skye…she made it. And so did Miles. Apparently all's fair in The Game." He shrugs. "Though, if you ask me, it seems a bit like a coincidence. Skye and her best mate making it to-"

"Fitz, please." Jemma sighs, feeling a different sort of ache start to spread throughout her chest. She feels exhausted even though she just woke up. "Don't start."

"I'm sorry." Fitz says and Jemma is surprised to hear the words come out of his mouth. "I'm sorry about everything I said earlier. I'm sorry that I was acting like such an idiot and I should have apologized earlier." He shakes his head. "When you fell I thought…I think that was the worst moment of my entire life and all I could think about was how I'd been acting like a jerk for the past few days."

Jemma's vision blurs when tears fill her eyes and she reaches out her hand and Fitz takes it. "Oh Fitz." She says softly. "I'm sorry too."

"Everything I said before," Fitz starts, "about Skye and-"

"It doesn't matter." Jemma interrupts him before he has the chance to really launch into his apology. The words that she's been waiting to hear him say for the past few days suddenly don't seem at all important. It doesn't matter. Nothing really matters anymore. "It's all over now. It doesn't matter."

Everything she's been working toward all summer doesn't matter. It took only seconds for her to lose any chance she had at Stanford. Everything she'd ever wanted has been snatched away from her as quickly and suddenly as it was before. She was stupid for ever thinking that something different could happen.

"Jemma, it's not-"

"Yes it is." Jemma says sharply and the reality that settles over her now is heavier and more frightening than the truth of her fractured leg and banged up body. "It's over."

"Don't say that." Fitz chides gently. "We'll think of something. We always do."

Jemma shakes her head. "Three weeks. What are we supposed to do in three weeks."

"We'll think of something." Fitz just says again, more forcefully, giving her hand a squeeze. But they both know that the situation is hopeless and it's all over now. Everything she could have had has slipped through her fingers and Jemma just wants to fall back into the blissful ignorance of sleep for a little while longer.

Unfortunately, that stops being a possibility as soon as her mother comes into the room. She looks as relieved as she is displeased but thankfully manages to hold off on any scolding for the time being. Jemma isn't sure she could handle that on top of everything else.

The doctor comes in to check on her and repeats everything that Fitz has already told her but Jemma pretends to listen anyway. The only part that sounds remotely interesting is his assurance that, barring complications, she can head home in the morning. "You should try and get some rest." The doctor advises her with a patient but firm smile. "Your body needs to recover."

Jemma assures him that she will and when he leaves, Katherine just looks at Jemma and shakes her head. "What…I can't even begin to understand what you were thinking."

"Mum," Jemma sighs, closing her eyes, "can we just do this another time?"

A year ago, Katherine never would have let that slide. She would have gotten the whole story even if she'd had to drag it out of her daughter word by word. But, a year ago, Jemma never would have even considered participating in The Game. A year ago, her father would still have been alive and Stanford and everything that came after would have been a given. It didn't even take a year for everything to change; the past few months have brought them to this moment. And Katherine has been too tired to fight for a long time now.

So Katherine just sighs and lets the subject drop. She just sits in the other empty chair in the room, letting Fitz keep his place beside the bed. Jemma spends a few minutes protesting, assuring them that she'll be fine overnight and they can both go home and avoid spending the next few hours in uncomfortable hospital chairs. Of course, they both stay put and thankfully no one tries to start up a conversation. Not even Fitz tries to cajole Jemma into talking. It's a relief, because all she wants to do is sit and be angry. She feels like she's earned it.

As Jemma finally starts to fall asleep, she thinks about Skye and how she misses having her there beside her, stroking her fingers down her back or through her hair, lulling Jemma to sleep with every touch. She wonders if there might be some truth to Fitz's suspicions but thankfully she falls asleep before that idea can start to take root.

* * * * * 

The doctor lets her go home in the morning, as promised, and her body is still too sore to handle using the crutches so Jemma has to endure the wheelchair. "How long until this stupid thing can come off?" Jemma mutters, glaring at the cast around her leg like it's the source of all her problems.

"A few weeks." Katherine says, her tone tired and distracted. The glossy look in her eyes lets Jemma know that she's still self-medicating and she feels guilty for hoping that will make her mother less inclined to ask questions.

Jemma huffs as she slides into the front seat of the car. It doesn't matter, in the end. In a few weeks everything will be different: Fitz will be gone and The Game will be over and she'll still be here. Who cares when her stupid cast will come off anyway?

Jemma finally manages to get Fitz to go home after assuring him several times that all she wants is to go home and rest and when she's up for company, she'll call him right away. She makes this promise a dozen times before Fitz seems reassured enough to head home on his own.

Thankfully, the car ride home is taken in silence and Jemma just stares out the window, watching the familiar sights pass her by. She was supposed to be getting out of here. And now she's stuck all over again.

Katherine helps her into bed, fussing over her half-heartedly and arranging the blankets around Jemma and her bulky cast. "Mum," Jemma says as Katherine starts to leave the room, "will you…open the window?"

It's probably pointless but still, Jemma can't help but hope.

Even though Jemma feels like all she's been doing recently is sleeping, she drifts off shortly after her mother leaves the room. She doesn't feel like doing anything else at the moment, if she's being honest, and at least when she's resting she can take her mind off everything else.

Jemma wakes to the sound of someone moving around in her room and for a moment she just lays there with her eyes closed, pretending to still be asleep on the off-chance that it's her mother finally coming in to talk about why her daughter was trying to climb up the quarry in the middle of the night. But then the mattress shifts and dips as someone gets into bed beside her and Jemma's eyes snap open and there's Skye.

Skye looks guilty, like a child with her hand caught in the cookie jar, and she smiles sheepishly. "Sorry. I was really trying not to wake you up."

"It's okay." Jemma assures her, shifting her position so that it's easier for her to see Skye. "What are you doing here?"

Skye almost looks hurt by the question. "I was…I wanted to see you. Is that…okay?" She asks tentatively.

Jemma doesn't say anything. She just reaches for Skye because it's been far too long since she's had her in her arms and she can feel the relief in Skye's body, the way she seems to relax against her.

"I'm sorry," Skye says, her breath tickling the hollow of Jemma's throat, "I wanted to see you earlier but I…I didn't know where you were and I've been waiting for you to come home and I…I didn't know…I didn't know if you were okay or what had happened…"

Jemma strokes her hair, resting her cheek against Skye's forehead. "I'm okay." And it's only a half lie when she says it.

"Fucking Miles." Skye snarls and Jemma can feel her body tense. "Next time I see him, I'm going to kill him."

It isn't until that moment that Jemma realizes that the hesitation she felt earlier, the reluctance she felt when she saw Skye, came from the nagging doubts implanted by Fitz the night before. The idea that Miles might have somehow been working under Skye's directive, charged with eliminating her from The Game so that Skye didn't have to. But hearing Skye, the anger and betrayal in her voice, feeling the sincerity in her touch, it makes Jemma feel foolish for ever doubting Skye. She feels the knot in her chest loosen and she pulls Skye closer, holding her so tightly it's like she's worried about what might happen if she were to let go.

Skye slips her arm around Jemma's waist, resting her head on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry." She says softly, her voice quivering. "It wasn't supposed to be like this."

Jemma just sighs softly, shaking her head. "No." Nothing was supposed to be like this. The past seven months weren't supposed to be like this. And yet, here they are. And there's nothing she can do about it now.

"You have to win." Jemma says softly, after they've passed several moments in silence.

Skye doesn't say anything but Jemma knows that she's taken the words to heart.

* * * * * 

Much to Jemma's surprise, her broken leg seems to be the catalyst that brings Fitz and Skye together. It takes Jemma about an hour to become frustrated with the two of them fretting over her but she does find it amusing that Fitz and Skye seem to be finally getting along. Even though she doesn't feel like she needs to be babied, Jemma definitely isn't going to complain about having them both hanging around for the next few days.

It's been three days since Jemma woke up in the hospital, three days since The Game came to an end for her, three days before word starts to spread that the final challenge of The Game will be tonight.

The details of the final challenge are often shrouded in more secrecy than the rest of The Game. No one is allowed to be present aside form the competitors and the judges and whoever is acting as the liaison that year. Only the winner ever becomes public knowledge; whatever was done to win never becomes fodder for gossip. It was during the final challenge that Mike Peterson died and Chan Ho Yin became burned so badly that the rumor is that he's still undergoing treatment and skin-grafts. It's strange to suddenly feel so separate, so unattached to something that has been hanging over her head all summer; The Game is no longer a threat that Jemma has to contend with. The relief she feels is probably the only thing that can lessen the burden of losing.

But, of course, there's still Skye to worry about. The girl that Jemma first found herself falling for in the beginning of summer has returned: the aloof and distant girl, the fearless one, the closed off one, the untouchable one. Jemma knows her well enough now to see the act but even still, Skye's eyes are hard and determined and glint dangerously.

"What I said before," Jemma whispers fiercely against Skye's ear as she hugs her goodbye, "it doesn't matter. You don't have to win. Please just be careful."

Skye smiles at her and kisses her and says nothing. Jemma's words don't matter. She's going to play to win.

* * * * * 

"I'm sure she's fine." Fitz says when it's two in the morning and Skye still hasn't returned.

It's not like there was a plan in place; Skye didn't leave with the assurance that she would come back after or otherwise let Jemma know that she was okay, that she wasn't going to be the next person to follow Mike Peterson and Chan Ho Yin into the legends of The Game. But Jemma had kinda assumed that she would. Or rather, she'd hoped that she would.

Jemma just nods absently as they continue to watch some endless infomercial for tap-lights. Because Skye not being here is not the same thing as Skye being hurt or dead or otherwise in danger. Of course, logic only works so well in moments like this one.

Eventually, not even their worries are enough to keep them awake and both Jemma and Fitz eventually fall asleep on the couch. Katherine wakes them up the following morning when she starts banging around in the kitchen for no discernable purpose and the first thing that Jemma does is check her phone. No message from Skye.

If Skye isn't dead or in the hospital somewhere, Jemma is going to be pissed at her for this.

Fitz heads home with the promise to come back later in the day and Jemma tries to read to distract herself from imagining the worst. But after having someone sit her down to tell her that her father is never going to come home again, she feels like it's understandable that her mind wants to run to the worst case scenario right away.

Jemma's heart plummets when someone knocks on the front door and it's the worse feeling of déjà vu she can possibly imagine. All she can think about is sitting here on the couch working on her physics homework and opening the door to find a police officer on the other side, telling her that she needs to come with him to the hospital. Jemma pushes those thoughts away, trying to roll her eyes at her own ridiculousness.

It takes her a few minutes to maneuver herself into a standing position with her crutches and Jemma finally hobbles over to the door, yanking it open. Skye is standing on the other side and Jemma just lets out a sigh of relief. "Oh thank god." She mutters.

The only thing to indicate that things have changed since the last time Jemma saw Skye is the bruise coloring the right side of Skye's face. Jemma wants to ask but there are plenty of other things that seem more important right now. Like the fact that Skye is fine and standing here in front of her.

Jemma figures that she can be pissed about the lack of communication thing later.

Jemma can tell that there's something different, something wrong. It's in Skye's face and her posture, the fact that she hasn't said anything since Jemma opened the door. Once Jemma has made her way back to the couch, she just looks at Skye expectantly, unable to gauge exactly what Skye is about to tell her. Either she won or she lost. Those are the only options. But neither path is simple.

"I won." Skye says softly and Jemma just gapes at her.

It seems almost impossible to comprehend. Skye won. Seventy thousand dollars. Jemma's mantra for the summer seems to have taken on a whole new meaning now.

"Skye." Jemma breathes, looking at her in disbelief.

She doesn't say that's amazing even though it is. She doesn't say I can't believe it even though she can. She doesn't say this changes everything even though it does. Jemma doesn't say anything at all because she doesn't even know where to begin.

Skye looks like she's still a little bit speechless herself. She just slips off the backpack that she's been wearing and holds it out to Jemma. It takes Jemma only a second to realize what the pointed look on Skye's face means.

"No." Jemma looks at her, surprised. "Skye. No."

But Skye just smiles and drops the bag into her lap. "Jemma, just listen-"

"No." Jemma shakes her head, pushing the bag back at Skye. She thinks that the hardest thing is how badly she wants what's inside. "Skye, you can't just-"

"Listen." Skye says more forcefully this time, her tone colored with exasperation. "I wanted to win so I could get out of here and start over and just…be somewhere that felt like home. Listening to you talk about California and the crappy apartment and the crappy jobs I just…I liked the way it sounded. It was like…home."

Skye pushes the bag closer to Jemma once more and Jemma can see the way that her eyes shimmer with tears that have yet to fall. It makes Skye look so open and vulnerable, but still somehow hopeful.

"You said if you could just get there that you could figure the rest out." Skye reminds Jemma. "Well, now you can get there. And I thought maybe we could figure the rest out…together?"

Jemma just shakes her head. "Skye…I couldn't possibly…" She looks at Skye and there's a part of her desperately needing Skye to change her mind and take the money back. But there's another part of her that so desperately needs Skye to assure her that it's okay, that understands how badly she wants this.

Skye leans forward, slipping her hand around Jemma's neck and pulling her closer. "Don't be stubborn." She chides softly. "Besides, what good is all this money if I don't have someone to help me spend it?"

Jemma just laughs quietly, shaking her head. "Skye…I…" She turns her head away slightly, looking down at the backpack sitting between the two of them.

She wonders if it's possible that they could both get what they want. That, when you take away the nuances, they both just want the same thing. Or is Jemma just being selfish and short-sighted in thinking so?

But when she sees the look in Skye's eyes, Jemma thinks they might not be so different after all.

"Together." Jemma says softly as she kisses Skye.

Skye just nods and pulls her closer and the bag falls off Jemma's lap and to the ground, momentarily forgotten.

* * * * * 

"I can do it myself." Jemma lets out of a huff, rolling her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous."

"You're still crippled." Skye points out as she snatches the bag away from Jemma. "You should milk it for all it's worth. While it lasts."

"She's right, you know." Fitz chimes in from his spot by the trunk, where he's puzzling over how to pack everything inside. "Definitely enjoy it."

Jemma just frowns, crossing her arms over her chest. "I can't believe you're taking her side. Ganging up on me."

Fitz takes the bag from Skye when she brings it over and just continues to look quizzically at the trunk of his car. "We're not." He protests absently. "We might have to start over again…"

Skye groans and shakes her head. "Fitz," she whines, "we've already started over like three times."

"Well, that was before Jemma came up with another bag." Fitz glares at Jemma accusingly. "Did you remember to pack the bloody kitchen sink?"

"Watch it. I'm still crippled, you have to be nice to me." Jemma warns, brandishing her crutch at him.

Fitz rolls his eyes. "For one more week." He mutters.

Skye snatches the bag away from Fitz before he can start unpacking boxes and suitcases from his trunk. "I'll just put this in my lap and it's all good. Right? Right. Okay, good. Let's go."

Fitz starts to protest and Jemma can definitely see his reasoning. After all, the car is already pretty packed full. There's barely enough space in the backseat for Skye. It's not like they were intending to make the journey to California with three people in one car; seven months ago, Jemma had envisioned herself watching her parents disappear in the rearview mirror of her own car, loaded with her own stuff, following Fitz out of town. Obviously, things have changed. Obviously, they're having to make due with what they've got to work with. But as Jemma watches Fitz and Skye bickering over where to store the last of their bags, she can't help but wonder if maybe some things don't change for the better.

Obviously, there are some things that Jemma wishes had never changed at all. Not having her father here to wish her luck as she heads off to college is a nagging pain that she's just barely managing to keep at bay. She knows it'll hit her full force later tonight and probably several times as she starts to navigate this next stage in her life. But she has Skye and Fitz and Jemma is pretty sure that counts for a lot.

Skye finally wins the tug-of-war and pulls the bag away from Fitz. "It's fine. Geez, it doesn't have to be perfect." She teases. "They should make an A&E show about you."

Fitz glares at her. "Fine. But don't come crying to me when you're feeling claustrophobic."

"I lived in a falling down barn for eight months." Skye points out. "I think I'm good."

Jemma pulls herself to a standing position, tucking her crutches under her arms and hopping over to the car. "Shall we go?" She questions, looking at Skye and Fitz expectantly. "We can always stop to repack on the way if we need to."

"No. No more repacking." Skye decrees. "Just driving."

Fitz grumbles to himself but he slams the trunk closed, making his way to the driver's side. Jemma feels her heart jump in excitement at the thought of what's going to come next. There's still a part of her that can't believe that this is really happening. That after everything, she's actually on her way.

And that's the part of her that makes her look a Skye, suddenly feeling a flutter of doubt. "Are you sure…I mean I'm sure we could speak with admissions and-"

"Jemma, stop." Skye rolls her eyes, putting her hands on Jemma's hips. "Are you sure? You sure you want to be stuck with me in some crappy apartment? Because I have a lot of bad habits that-"

Jemma just cuts her off with a kiss. "Stop." She says softly and kisses her again.

Fitz clears his throat and Jemma reluctantly moves away from Skye. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought we were going." He arches an eyebrow. "What happened to 'just driving?'"

Skye gives him the finger before getting into the backseat of the car, settling Jemma's bag onto her lap. Jemma manages to maneuver herself into the front seat, narrowly avoiding whacking herself with her own crutches. She can't wait until this whole thing is over and done with. To say the crutches are a hassle is definitely an understatement.

It feels surreal when they're finally on the road, heading out of town. Jemma has thought about this moment for years, waiting for the day when she could finally put this place behind her and move somewhere bigger and brighter, somewhere she could really start to fit in. And now that it's actually happening, Jemma almost can't believe it. It's definitely not like she anticipated; she never would have imagined this on her first day of high school.

Jemma expects to feel a sense of nostalgia or maybe even homesickness as she watches all the familiar sights pass by the window. But she doesn't. She just feels excitement for what's coming next. Jemma catches Skye's eyes in the side view mirror and Skye just smiles at her and winks and Jemma feels her heart flutter and it's just like that first afternoon when they were standing on the edge of quarry. Only this time, Jemma is ready to jump.

end.


End file.
